Thanks, Mate
by Distant Luver
Summary: Hermione's pregnant. The father? Ron. Unfortunately, having a child in the wizarding world outside of marriage is illegal, leaving Ron in a horrible position. Can Harry & Ginny, Draco, the twins, and a mentally handicapped dementor pull them them through?
1. First Day Jitters?

Thanks, Mate

_Chapter one; First Day Jitters?_

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AN: I know, one too many fics! Oh well, it's fun! 

Disclaimer: ain't mine

Time Period - the beginning of year 6 - (**HBP alternative)**

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"You sure you're alright, Mione?" Ron asked Hermione gently as he escorted her off the Hogwarts Express train. 

She waved it away. "I'm fine. I just don't think my breakfast went well with all the motion on the train." Hermione sighed.

"If you like, Hermione," Harry started as he left the train, Ginny trailing behind. "I'm sure Ginny can lead you over to the bathroom. So you can freshen up."

Ginny nodded. "Sure, I will." She said with a yawn, having been rudely awakened by Hermione's sickening experience. Hermione nodded, and the two girls left.

"Oh, don't worry, girls. We'll take care of your luggage for ya." Harry muttered to Ron sarcastically. Ron snorted, going back on the train to retrieve both his and Hermione's trunks, Harry close behind to in turn retrieve his own and Ginny's.

"I just still can't believe she actually vomited." Harry said, a bit disgusted as he used his wand to clean up the few remaining spots. "She could usually stomach something like this." He then sighed as he grabbed Hedwig's cage in one hand, Ginny's trunk in the other. Since his trunk was bigger, he'd just transport it.

Ron shrugged his shoulders. "I don't think she's gotten much sleep. And that plus the lack of breakfast she had wasn't at all good with that motion, mind you."

"I don't doubt it for a second." Harry said as he summoned his trunk down the train's stairs. "All done? I'm starving."

Ron nodded and followed him into the Great Hall. "I'm just glad I don't have to help direct all those first years again like last year. I swear, they're bloody devils."

Ron blinked as he sat down next to Hermione, who was already eating like ruddy hell. Ginny, who didn't find this particularly interesting, held onto Harry's arm as he sat down, laying her head on him as she had on the train. "I_told_ you that you'd be tired in the morning. This is what happens when you pack everything you own at the last minute." Harry whispered. Seeming not to care about his opinion on the matter, she groaned and appeared to fall asleep. He sighed and lovingly wiped the hair away from her face and held her hand. Even if he had told her so, it was utterly impossible for him to scold that adorable face.

Ron turned to Harry and whispered over his practically unconscious sister. "Ya know what, I've noticed something."

Harry rolled his eyes, a bit irritated that Ginny was weighting his arm down so much that he couldn't use his knife right. "Enlighten me, Ron."

"I think Hermione's lost her mind. Look how much she's eating." So Harry did; considering the fact that he had been deprived of food all morning, and having Ginny on his arm made it impossible to transfer dishes effectively, the amount of food Hermione was taking in seemed like nothing.

"You're one to talk; you had a full breakfast." Harry retorted. "The rest of us just jumped in the car and left."

"That's what happens when you oversleep, mate." Ron informed him sarcastically, earning a dirty look from Harry.

Sighing,Harry tried one more time at buttering his bagel smoothly before gently transferring Ginny, who groaned at her sudden change in comfort. "Sorry, love," he whispered, "But I've got to eat sometime before dinner." and he lay her head down on his leg instead, leaving his arm free. He smiled gleefully at the release of his arm, and started to eat normally (or normally as possible with ravenous hunger looming over him).

After they had all finished eating and the sorting ceremony had concluded, they all made their way to their common room; Ginny was still fast asleep, so Harry had to carry her there.

"Look at that, lads. Potter's got himself another girlfriend." Malfoy laughed, Crabbe and Goyle following suite. "And it's a Weasley, I see. Such an excellent choice." he added sarcastically, earning another round of laughs from his lackeys.

Harry smirked. "Jealous, Malfoy? Seeing as you've never managed to get a girl, it only seems logical." Ron snickered, Hermione trying her hardest to suppress her laughter.

Although he looked embarrassed, Malfoy only raised an eyebrow. "Think you're funny, Potter, do you? Maybe you have a knack for dodging curses, as well?" he taunted with a sneer, retrieving his wand from his robes.

Harry clicked his tongue as he shook his head. "Wouldn't do that if I were you. Ginny doesn't like being awaken so many times in one day; you'll find she's quite hostile towards those who dare to wake her. Although, if you'd like to see for yourself, I urge you to carry on."

Knowing Malfoy wouldn't protest, Harry walked passed him, Ron and Hermione in tow. Hermione paused for a moment in front of Malfoy to say with pure sarcasm: "Gosh, did Harry hurt your feelings?" She shrugged her shoulders innocently and left, leaving Malfoy with the task of stifling the urge to jinx her.

"Really, love. I wouldn't have done that if I were you. He could really hurt you if he wanted." Ron said, concerned.

Hermione rolled her eyes. _"Please,_ Ron; I can take care of myself."

Ron blushed and shrugged his shoulders. "Oh, Well then. . . just be careful." he added quietly.

Hermione smiled and leaned her head on him, kissing his cheek. "Don't worry. I'll be careful."

Harry yawned as he followed Ron into the common room, seeming to catch Ginny's sleeping bug. "I think I'll take a nap. . . the train ride made me a bit tired." Ginny subconsciously groaned in agreement.

Hermione turned to Ron as Harry walked to the boy's dormitories. "I think I'll go down to the library for a bit. . . I've got an errand to run. But I'll be back soon, alright?" Hermione gently kissed Ron's cheek before getting an answer, and left the common room, leaving Ron to sit by the fire.

"Hey! Weasley!" Ron jumped, completely startled by Lee Jordan's sudden appearance.

He sighed. "What the hell are you doing, jumping at me like that!"

Lee chuckled. "Touchy, touchy. Whatcha been up to for the past two months?" he asked, taking a seat across from him.

Ron shrugged. "Nothing really, I guess. You?"

"Same. Although I've noticed you got yourself a girl, for once." he teased.

Ron laughed. "Yeah."

"Hermione Granger, eh? Not bad, not bad." Lee pondered.

Ron raised an eyebrow. "Got a problem, mate?"

He laughed in response. "Just upset there's no one else to choose from." and with that, the two tumbled into hysteric laughter.

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hope ya liked it! That's just a short introduction into the rest of the chapters, and since the next one is basically halfway finished, it'll be up when I get some reviews! please review! 

Suki

_**formatting updated July 26, 2006**_


	2. Muggle Illnesses

Thanks, Mate

_Chapter two; Muggle Illnesses_

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AN: hey! I'm soooo happy at the amount of reviews I got so quickly! Thanks to all who reviewed, and Tiffany, glad you like the idea! Lol, I thought it was quite a weird idea myself, but when the character is introduced, it will make more sense. The dementor is actually my favorite in this whole story to tell you the truth! And also, Jenni: Lee Jordan would be in his seventh year since they're all in their sixth, because he is a year older. Well anyways, to the chapter!

Disclaimer: ain't mine

Time Period - a couple of weeks since the beginning of term

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Hermione groaned in her sleep, waking for what seemed the millionth time that night. Her face cringed in pain, and she sat up in bed as slow as she could without causing more. She breathed slowly, only speeding when she felt sharp pains in her stomach that left as fast as they came. Realizing that this was the fourth time she had awoken to this that one night, tears came to her eyes. When the worst of the pain was gone, she slowly got out of bed and pulled her robe around her, silently closing the dormitory door behind her. 

As the pain got worse with every step she took, she began to cry. She tried to hold it at a low whimper, but to no avail. Even if Ron might be upset, she had to wake him up again. She just had to.

As quickly as she could, Hermione scurried to the boy's dormitories and entered the room that Harry, Ron, Seamus, Neville and Dean occupied, not bothering to close the door.

Falling to the side of his bed, Hermione shook Ron gently, her hands trembling. "Ron!" she hissed urgently. "Ron, wake up! Wake up!"

Ron groaned. "But, Mum, I didn't do it, honest. . ." he mumbled subconsciously.

Hermione sighed, shivering for a moment before continuing to shake him. "Get up, Ron!"

Suddenly, Ron yawned, opening his eyes halfway to see if it was urgent enough to stay awake. Seeing Hermione, he blinked a few times before yawning again. "What's wrong?" he whispered.

Hermione sniffed. "It hurts again." Ron moved over on the bed, pulling the covers back so she could climb in. He gently helped her lie down, his arms coming around her.

"It's alright. Just calm yourself. I'm right here." he cooed softly, and waited until the last of the whimpering left her. "You really ought to go to the hospital wing, Hermione. This is the third night this week." he suggested for the millionth time, and Hermione shook her head desperately.

"Please, Ron. . ._please_ don't make me go! It'll go away soon, I just have to let it be, I promise. It's alright! Just don't make me go to the hospital wing."

Ron sighed and held Hermione's cold, shivering body closer to him as she began to mewl again. "Hermione, no. . . Don't cry again. Please don't. Look, I'll tell you what; I'll let it go for tonight, love, but if this happens again tomorrow, you have to promise I can take you without a big fuss over it." Hermione sniffed, well aware he wasn't finished reasoning. He hadn't added enough drama yet. "I don't want you to get sick. I love you too much for that. And if you love me half as much as I know you do, you'll give me your word." A moment of silence fell over them as Hermione thought through his debate.

Completely forgetting that Ron's eyes had such a strong power over her, she looked up into them, realizing her mistake as soon as she had made it. She slowly closed her eyes and lowered her head, muttering, "Damn those eyes of yours."

Ron chuckled. "Alright, then?" Hermione sighed and nodded. "Good. Now get some sleep, alright?" he said lovingly, snuggling her close to him. "I love you." Ron breathed in her ear.

Hermione pressed a gentle kiss to his lips and settled down again. "I love you too."

* * *

"Shite!" Ginny cursed, throwing her clothes on as fast as she possibly could, not particularly caring how sloppy she looked. "Hermione left without me _again_! What's her _problem_? Is it too much of a hassle to turn around and wake me up anymore?" Growling with frustration, Ginny threw her unfinished Transfiguration homework that she had awoken over into her bag, praying that McGonagall would forget she had assigned it. Realizing her slim chances of that happening, Ginny slammed the door behind her, walking down into the common room. 

"Ginny!" Ginny spun around, still a bit angered, coming within visual range of Hermione. Ginny let out a sigh, knowing it wouldn't be pretty if she fought with her, so she tried to think of something that Ron wouldn't shove in her face later.

"Oh! Hermione!" she paused. "Um. . . So, you forgot to wake me up again. . ."

Hermione clasped her hand to her mouth, realizing she indeed had forgotten all about it. "Holy shite! Oh, Ginny. . . I'm so sorry! I was up with Ron again. . ."

"Oh!" Ginny sighed with relief, laughing slightly. "Don't worry about it then! I thought you just left without me, that's all! It's alright." Both girls let out a burst of laughter, relieved that they had reached an understanding on the situation.

When it had ended, Hermione looked around before whispering to Ginny, "Ginny. . . Can I ask you something?" Ginny raised an eyebrow and nodded. "Um. . . Muggle studies. . . Do you take it?"

She shook her head slowly. "Sorry, no." Hermione sighed.

"Do you know anyone who does?" Hermione asked anxiously. "In your year."

Unaware of Hermione's point, Ginny thought for a moment anyway. "Um. . . I dunno. . . I think Luna might."

"Luna! Great! Oh God. . . Thank you_so_ much! You don't know how much I appreciate this, Ginny."

"No problem. . . but. . . Why in my year?"

"Well . . . The textbook for the fifth year in Muggle Studies is on the Muggles' immune system in comparison to ours and I. . ." Hermione stopped herself dead. "Um. . . just wanted to do a bit of extra studying."

Ginny nodded slowly. "I see."

Hermione smiled nervously and started walking backwards towards the door, still talking, "Great! Thanks again, Ginny! I owe you!"

Ginny sighed and walked towards her, stopping her from walking. "Hermione, are you alright?" She asked bluntly, as if Hermione had just come home from a mental clinic.

Hermione paused. "Um. . . Sure! I feel great! Haven't felt better in _ages_!" Hermione clapped her hands together. "Okay, then, So. . . When you see Ron, tell him I'm skipping breakfast, and I'll meet him and Harry at Potions. Alright?"

Ginny nodded, highly doubting she felt alright. "Ok, I'll tell them."

"Great! I gotta go catch Luna on her way out. . . Talk to you later, alright?" And with that, she was gone out the portrait hole.

Still thinking through Hermione's words, Ginny stood in the same spot, wondering of she had said something that she hadn't picked up. Then, out of nowhere, she jumped at the sound of her name. She spun around and sighed, hitting Harry in the shoulder for his amused expression. "You scared me, you bastard!"

Harry laughed. "Sorry. Couldn't help myself." Sighing from Harry's immature matter of thinking, Ginny let him circle his arms around her and kiss her temple.

When he noticed her distant expression, he changed his tone and asked, "What's wrong?"

Ginny shook her head. "Nothing. . . Just a strange conversation with Hermione."

Harry sighed. "Poor thing. She's getting really sick."

Ginny paused and looked up at him. "What?"

"She's been coming to our dorm every night this week. You mean you didn't know?"

"No. . . I mean, she did mention something about staying up with Ron, but I didn't think. . . You're not serious?"

"I am. She keeps saying her stomach hurts. She was crying last night for the longest time."

Ginny nodded slowly, taking it all in. "You won't believe this, but. . . she just asked me if I had a book on Muggle illness."

Harry's breath caught in his throat. "No. . . "

Ginny shook her head. "I'm dead serious." she paused. "Do you think we should tell Ron?"

Harry thought a moment. "Not yet. If she gets any worse, then we'll tell him. In the meantime, Hermione's strong. . . she can take care of herself."

Ginny nodded silently.

"Alright then. To breakfast?" Harry took her arm and started to direct her out of the portrait hole when she stopped him. "Now what?"

Ginny looked down at the ground. "Hermione. She said she's skipping breakfast too." Harry stared at her sympathetically, unaware of what to tell her. It was true that Hermione had skipped every meal the day before, but he couldn't imagine why she wouldn't eat even now. She had explained to Ron that it didn't make sense for her to eat, because she winds up throwing it up every time, and they had all thought of her as crazy for saying that.

Harry caught Ginny's gaze and instantly went to wipe her eyes when he saw tears. They just stood there for a moment, staring deeply at each other. It was like their own little way of talking to each other without having to use words, which helped at times like this when words could ruin all sorts of different views. It was then that Harry finally realized what she had been trying to say.

Something was wrong. Very wrong.

* * *

Hermione bit her lip. Still no luck. She had tried almost every sickness in the book, and just when the symptoms seemed to be a match, the last few didn't fit at all. She had been sitting there in a secluded corner of the library for hours just trying to find any clues. She wanted to know. she_desperately_ wanted to know what was wrong with her. 

"That was the last one." she said quietly. "Okay, which ones did I skip?" Turning back to the folded pages, she ignored anything that was contagious, because then Ron would have been dreadfully sick as well. She ignored the cancers, just for the plain fact that there were too many of them to go through it all.

That was when she saw it; the one last page that could possibly be what was wrong with her. She thought for a moment. No, it couldn't be. But it was all that was left, and she wasn't about to deny having ever had any . . . contact. . . with Ron. She sighed and lowered her head to read it, in case anyone happened to be reading over her shoulder. She looked up as she wrapped her arms around the top of the book so no one could read the heading but her; "The Symptoms of Pregnancy."

When Hermione finally brought herself to reading it, her eyes grew wider with every symptom mentioned. Every single thing on that page was a match. Every single solitary thing. She shook as she saw the test at the bottom of the page, hurriedly closing the book in denial. She couldn't be pregnant. She couldn't be.

Only, she could be. . . and those were all the symptoms that matched perfectly.

Panting as she went, Hermione slowly opened to the fateful page again, staring down at the testing section on the bottom. _As _

_Muggles have no other means, pregnancy is detected in Muggle women through traces in urine samples. However, in the reproduction of witches, pregnancy can be determined by simply having a hex spell cast on them. If the attacker's wand is unable to carry out the spell, the tip of the wand will appear to have turned blue, showing that the witch is indeed with child._

Hermione thought, debating whether or not she should take out her wand. She really did want to know, but she also didn't want to. She was scared. For the first time in her life, she was truly scared. Now she wish she really _had_gone through all the kinds of cancer.

She was sitting there for a good 20 minutes when her human sense of curiosity took over her, and she shook as she retrieved her wand from her robes. Realizing that it had to be done, she breathed a deep breath and in one quick motion, she closed her eyes tight, pulled her wand out, tapped her wand to her wrist and muttered the firsthex that came to mind.

Opening her eyes again, she didn't even have to look at her wand. She hadn't been hexed; she was perfectly fine. She angrily stuffed her half- blue wand back into her robe, collapsed on the table and started to cry, completely oblivious to the fact that people were staring.

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hey! hope ya like it! the next chapter will be up sometime this week, but until then, please review! Suki

_**formatting updated July 26, 2006**_


	3. Remind Me

Thanks, Mate

_Chapter three; Remind Me_

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"Finally!" Harry hissed as Ron scurried into the class and sat beside him. "Where've you been? It's already halfway through the class! If you're late for one more class then you'll land yourself in detention!" 

"I can't help it! I still can't find her." Ron retorted, pulling his Potions book from his bag. "Damn her. . . Where the hell could she. . ."

"Ah, Mr. Weasley." Professor Snape drawled, coming up to Ron's desk. "How nice of you to join us. And you're a bit late, I see? That will be 10 points." Ron returned the professor's generous reward with a dirty scowl. Seeming satisfied in Ron's displeasure, Snape continued to the front of the room to continue the lesson.

Ron growled. "Bastard." hehad just managed to open his book to the proper page when an explosion from the table beside him erupted, and, since his adrenaline was already pumping, the explosion made him jump in his seat. With an agitated look in his eyes, he spun around and started to scold his classmate. "NEVILLE! HOW MANY BLOODY TIMES HAS HERMIONE TOLD YOU NOT TO COMBINE MANDRAKE LEAVES WITH DRAGON'S SCALE? WRITE IT DOWN, FOR MERLIN'S SAKE! AND GOD DAMNIT, HARRY, LET ME GO!" he replied rudely to his friend's warnings that Snape was staring right at him. When Ron had finally realized, he looked at Snape's highly amused face (and Malfoy's replica of the expression from across the room), grabbed his stuff, and left the room angrily, knowing if he had stayed, he might've strangled them both to death.

* * *

Ginny sighed and dropped her bag beside her bed, plopping down sleepily. She had only lunch period to nap, but she had a feeling that if she closed her eyes now that she might not get up until dinner. She was so tired, she could've sworn she heard herself crying.

Only she wasn't crying. And that wasn't her voice.

Ginny opened her eyes, listening closely. She was sure she heard it. But who was it? Everyone was at lunch, and Ginny was just about the only person who would ever give up her lunch period for a nap. Maybe she wasn't, after all. She got up from her bed with a sigh and followed the sound of the cries to the dormitory next door. She opened the door a crack and stepped in as quietly as possible, but the crying continued. Funny, though; she didn't see anyone.

"Hello? Anyone there?" she called. With a gasp, the crying instantly stopped. Silence filled the room so awkwardly that Ginny decided to take another step. "Hello?"

"Ginny? Is that you?" a shaky voice answered. The voice was familiar, but its shaky tone made it difficult to decipher.

Ginny continued through the room and opened the door at the other end, and answered; "It's me! Where are you?"

"Right here."

Ginny spun around, her eyes instantly going into shock. There was Hermione, kneeling on the side of her bed, with tears streaming down her face. Her eyes were red and bloodshot, and the blanket was soaked with tears. Ginny raced beside her to help, asking frantically, "What happened? Are you hurt?"All Hermione could manage was a violent shake of the head before she grabbed onto Ginny's arms to start crying again. Ginny sighed and brought her friend close to her, letting her sob into her shoulder. "It's alright." She cooed. "I'm right here. Everything's okay."

"No it's not." she sobbed. "Ginny. . . whatever you're thinking right now. . . it's worse." Ginny's brow wrinkled in confusion, but she didn't speak. She just let Hermione go on talking. "It's all gone wrong. . . All of it. . . I don't know what I'm supposed to do. . . It wasn't supposed to be like this!" she wailed, shaking back and forth as if she were going crazy.

Ginny instantly grabbed her by the arms as she started to rock, shaking her frantically to get her to calm herself. "Hermione! What are you talking about? Get a hold of yourself!" Hermione closed her eyes tightly and slowly stopped crying, but she continued to shake. It really was quite the spectacle. Ginny had never seen her like this, and she could have almost sworn that even Ron hadn't ever seen her like this.

"Now there." Ginny said softly. "What's wrong?"

Hermione inhaled and exhaled very slowly before answering. "I want to tell you, Ginny, I really do. . . But. . . I don't want you to think I'm. . ."

"It's alright!" Ginny assured her. "I won't judge you; honest,I won't." Hermione looked up into her friend's eyes and sighed. She wasn't lying. Then again, Ginny had probably never told a lie in her life; it just wasn't a Weasley's nature.

"Alright." she said quietly. "But you have to swear you won't tell a soul." Ginny nodded loyally, waiting with patient eyes as Hermione tried to form words in her head.

But Hermione quickly realized that it just wasn't possible. She couldn't think of anything to say. Not a single word. There really was only one way she could tell her.

Sighing heavily, she reached into her robe with a shaky hand and slowly pulled out her wand, with its blue tip dully resonating. Ginny's hand flew to cover her mouth, and Hermione closed her eyes to shield herself from seeing any further reaction, thrusting her wand back into her robe in shame. Even if she couldn't see Ginny's face, she could still hear her silent whimpering.

Not wanting the situation to be forgotten, Ginny gently ran her fingers across Hermione's face until she looked at her and saw her mouth the words "Oh my God."

Hermione swallowed hardly and asked in a quiet voice, "So you know what it means, then?" Seeming a bit puzzled by the question, she looked around in paranoia before answering, "I thought all witches did." Not really sure that she wanted to admit she hadn't known, Hermione only nodded and let silence fill the air.

After a few awkward moments, Ginny squeezed her hand before she asked the question that they both knew was coming; "Is it Ron?"

Hermione's expression didn't change. "There's no one else it could be."

"And he doesn't know, I suppose?" Hermione nodded feebly. "And he doesn't suspect it?"

Hermione shook her head. "He only thinks that I'm a bit sick,that's all." Ginny nodded softly, and once again, the room fell into an ill-at-ease silence.

Then, suddenly, Hermione began to whimper again, and Ginny immediately held on to her to comfort her. "Oh Hermione . . . Now what?" she asked sympathetically.

Hermione shook her head furiously. "I don't want him know. I don't want it."

Ginny's eyes widened. "What? How do you expect to hide something like _that_?"

"Ginny, I don't want him to know! I don't want anything to change! He'll think I'm a whore, or something!"

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me, whore? Who got _who_ pregnant?" Hermione shuddered at that word. How was it that Ginny could say it so easily? "Look, I know my brother isn't the best guy in the world, but I think I know him well enough to say that he'd never even think of that. He really loves you, Hermione." She paused."Sure, I think he'd be shocked, but he wouldn't just leave you like that. I know he wouldn't. And you know it better than I do."

Hermione shook her head again. "Ginny, no. . . You don't understand! It doesn't just work like that! If you were . . . you know . . . and you told Harry, wouldn't you be scared out of your mind?"

"No, I wouldn't; because I believe in him."

Hermione stopped. "Believe in him?" she repeated.

"My heart didn't choose Harry for experience. My heart chose Harry because it just knew that. . . he was the one." Anyone who knew anything about Ginny Weasley would know that she could be quite shy at times, which was why Hermione expected to see a bashful expression on Ginny's face after she spoke those words, and she was quite surprised to find that she wasn't embarrassed at all. There she was, confident as she ever was, with a fond smile on her lips and soft, warm eyes. She really meant it. Every word. "And I know that. . . deep down. . . you know that that's how you feel for Ron." she whispered. Hermione bit her lip and let a single tear travel down her cheek. Ginny was exactly right; she loved Ron more than anything. And Ron put her before everything in his life.

"I'm not forcing you to tell him." Ginny continued silently. "Tell him whenever you think is the right time. Just don't let him find out the hard way. I don't want you to get hurt like that." Ginny smiled in such a confident way that Hermione felt almost compelled to do the same, and she instantly felt at peace again.

Just then, an angry-sounding school bell rang, signaling Ginny that it was time for her to take her leave. She stood up and affectionately touched Hermione on the head before leaving, knowing that her work there was done. Hermione would be alright without her.

* * *

By the time dinnertime rolled around and the usual noisy crowd shuffled into the great hall, Hermione was feeling so much better that she decided to turn up for dinner again, which made Ron completely animated and cheery for the whole meal. He, of course, tried to hide it, buteveryone could tell he was utterly thrilled. (He even made an effort to try and remember the names of all the potions they'd done in class that week to bring her up-to-date.)

Then, after Ron, Harry and Ginny managed to shove mountains of food down Hermione's throat (just in case she decided to stop eating for a week again), the tired Gryffindors filed back into the common room, filling in every chair from the fireplace to the back of the room. Then, in perfect sync, everyone in the common room reached under their chairs, pulled out their schoolbags they had left behind before dinner, and continued on with their homework as if their peculiar harmony was commonplace.

Just as Ron opened up his bag and started pulling out books, Hermione bit her lip and tugged on his arm. "Ron. . . We need to talk." Ginny looked up from her Herbology essay just long enough to confirm she had heard right, and then dropped her head to her paper, immersed in thought.

Before Ron had enough time to process her words and reply, a vile smell erupted from his bag, which made him drop it and clasp his nose. Then, with an angry growl, he stood up and started storming off to the first year's corner, Hermione curiously in tow.

"Alright, where's Tom?"he boomed at an innocent first year, earning a round of laughs from two boys directly in back of her. Ron pulled one of them up to his feet, which caused the ink bottle he was holding to smother all over his Potions book.

"Ron, you git!" he shot back angrily. "Look what you made me do!"

"You filled my bag with stink pellets again, didn't you, you little cretin?"

"So what if I did?"

"Ron!" Hermione hissed. "Stop it! Just leave him alone!"

"Leave him alone? He does this _Every blooming day_, Hermione!"

"Get over it, Weasley!" The first year remarked. "You're such a prick!"

"Am I, now?" Ron growled. The two looked ready to lunge, and the only things stopping them where Hermione and another first year.

"Ron! You're making a scene! Stop it!" Hermione pleaded, feeling everyone's eyes on them.

"Alright, let's break it up, gentlemen!" a loud voice came as a fifth year girl with her prefect's badge shining entered the circle.

"He filled my bag with stink pellets again!" Ron said accusingly.

Unfazed, the girl turned on her heel to him with her hands on her hips. "Well, then, Weasley, maybe he can amuse himself by shoving a few more in there while _you're_ in detention for harrasing a first year, and _you're_ in detention for egging him on! How's that sounding, boys?"

Knowing he'd loose if he said a word more, Ron grunted and unwillingly started to walk back to his seat with Hermione. "Remind me to never have kids." he said quietly, his voice still sounding agitated. Hermione stopped dead. Noticing her slow of pace, he asked gently, "What's wrong?"

When he received no answer, he waved his hand in front of her eyes, saying her name repeatedly until she sprung back to life. "Oh! hm?"

"Are you alright? You don't look well." he asked gently, causing her to nod quickly. He raised an eyebrow. "Hm. Erm, did you want to talk about something?"

_This is it, Hermione! _She thought to herself. _Now's your chance! Just say it!_ But, for the first time in her life, Hermione chose not to rely on her mind. "No." she said quietly. "Nevermind."

* * *

hey everyone! sorry it took so long to update! I don't remember who asked it, but NO, they did NOT just randomly have sex, that will be explained around chapter 5. Hope you liked it! Please review! -Suki

_**formatting updated July 26, 2006**_


	4. I'm pregnant

Thanks, Mate 

_chapter four; I'm Pregnant_

* * *

Sigh. "Mione; _please_, Hermione! I'm begging you!" Ron said desperately, trying to get her to eat. "Just a bite! That's all I'm asking!" Hermione simply shook her head, continuing to stare into space. 

Now even Harry joined in the conversation. "Hermione, you can't survive a week on a meal's worth of food. You need to eat. Especially since you're sick."

"I am_ not_ sick! How many times are you going to make me repeat myself?" Hermione said in an agitated tone.

Harry shrugged. "As many times as you decide to deny it, I suppose."

Hermione growled out of frustration, pushing Ron's fork away for the millionth time. "Ron, I've told you. I'm not hungry." Ron groaned in defeat and lowered his fork back to his plate.

Looking around at Ron and Harry before interjecting, Ginny began to speak, choosing her words carefully. "Hermione. . . Your body – and the things inside your body – they can't survive without food." The breath caught in Hermione's throat at Ginny's words, and thankfully, the boys hadn't noticed any hidden meaning behind it.

She slowly looked up to meet Ginny's eyes, and finally just covered her face with her hands. "Just leave me alone. . . please. . . I'm not hungry."

Ron shook his head sadly and just stared at his food, thinking of something to say without upsetting her. "I tried to ease up about it, but, Hermione, you did promise. . ."

Hermione blinked. "Promise what?"

"I really think that. . . I should. . . Well, you know. . . Take you to see Madam Pomfrey." All of a sudden, Hermione jumped from her seat.

"What?" she shrieked anxiously. Ron frowned and looked around at all the eyes that were now on them, standing and biting his lip.

Taking her hand, he said softly, "Come along. I want to talk to you about something." Hermione sighed deeply and nodded, following him out of the great hall.

"What was that in there?" he asked sternly, being so out-of-character that it startled Hermione.

"What do you mean?"

Ron sighed, his face looking almost angry. "What the hell is wrong with you? You won't eat a bloody thing, you won't go to your classes, you won't admit you're sick, which, let's face, Hermione, since you know it better than I do. . . and you're being so damn stubborn about it! Just let me bring you to the hospital wing and get it over with! Or is that too much to ask, being that it's for your own benefit?"

That's as far as he could go before he got a glimpse at her, hiding her tears behind the hands that draped her face. "Ron. . . I don't want to fight with you right now."

Ron nodded slowly and finally brought her into his arms, showing his regret by running his hands up and down her back and arms in comfort. "Sorry." She nodded quickly. "It's just that. . . I don't know what I'm supposed to do to help you anymore, Hermione. So can you just tell me what to do that'll make this easier for you?"

Hermione stopped, thinking carefully. There was nothing she could say. There really wasn't anything. "Ron. . . I love you so much, but. . . there's something you could do, but I can't tell you."

"And why not?" he asked calmly.

"Because. . . it's too much to ask of you. It's just too much." she sobbed, holding on to him as if she would die if she let go.

Ron just held on tighter and let her cry; however, he wasn't strong enough to do so without shedding tears as well. "Don't worry." he whispered. "It'll be alright."

* * *

"You know, Hermione. . ." Ginny started, plopping down on Hannah Abbot's bed and opening up her copy of _Witchcraft Teen Magazine _thrown carelessly to the side. "You really can't hide this much longer. The hormones are already getting to you, and there's no telling when you'll start to show." Hermione sighed in an _I don't want to talk about it_ manner before going to hide under her covers. Whether she hadn't noticed Hermione's unwillingness to speak or she just didn't care, Ginny continued. "Even if it's only Ron who knows. . . that's enough for now. But, then again, once Dumbledore or Malfoy or someone notice, Ron's done for, so you really can't tell anyone anyways. And is it just me, or is Wales's quidditch captain looking extra sexy lately?" she sighed dreamily and let the top half of her body fall off the side of the bed as she continued to stare at the magazine page. 

Hermione opened her eyes thoughtfully before asking, "What did you say?"

"I said isn't Tom Johnston really really. . ."

"No. Before that." Hermione said impatiently. "About Ron."

Ginny blinked. "Well, Azkaban, of course."

Hermione instantly sprung up in bed. "What do you mean, Azkaban?"

Ginny fell off the bed headfirst and landed on her head, but turned right side up as if she didn't have a growing bump on her head from hitting the floor. "You mean you don't know about that?" Hermione shook her head furiously, prompting Ginny to go on. "Hermione. . . having a baby outside of marriage. . . it's against the law."

Hermione's eyes grew wide as she gasped and just sat there, repeating, "Ag-against the l-l-law!" Ginny nodded slowly, unsure of whether or not she was the right person to be telling Hermione this. She slowly began to shake, covering her eyes as she began to sob. "Oh my God." She breathed shakily. Ginny sighed and climbed up onto Hermione's bed to put her arm around her. "Hey. . .it'll be okay. Shhh. . ." she cooed. "I promise it will."

Hermione shook her head. "No . . . it won't be alright until I tell Ron. . . I know it won't. . . But. . . Oh, Ginny. . . how do I tell him something like this?"

Ginny shrugged slightly. "I suppose. . . you just take a deep breath and do it. I really don't know what I'm supposed to say that'll help you anymore." she admitted quietly.

Hermione paused and swallowed hard. "That's what Ron said."

Ginny shook her head furiously. "No, it's not the same thing! Listen to me, Hermione, Ron doesn't know what to do right now because he's scared. He's only scared because he doesn't know what's going on with you. Once you tell him, it'll all be alright. I promise."

Hermione sniffed. "You really think so?"

Ginny nodded. "I do."

Just then, a small knock came on the door. "Hermione? You there?"

Hermione gulped, swallowing her tears and her sad tone. "Ron? Is that you?"

Ginny sighed and stood as her brother opened the door and entered, and as she walked passed him out of his view, she shot Hermione a look that had _now or never_ written all over it.

Seeming not to notice Hermione's hard swallow, Ron smiled warmly and sat next to her, cuddling her to him with his arm. "Hey. . . Thought I'd check up on you. . . How're you feeling?"

Hermione sighed and relaxed in his embrace. "Better, now." She bit her lip tightly throughout the whole silence that followed, and finally whispered, "Ron, we need to talk."

Ron looked at her curiously. "About what?"

Hermione averted her gaze away from him as she began to speak; she couldn't see his reaction. She'd die. "Well. . . remember what happened last summer? . . . I mean, I know you warned me, and I didn't listen like I should have. . . we _both_ didn't listen, actually. . . but we talked about it, Ron, and we seemed so sure. . .and now it's all blowing up in my face. . ."

Ron raised an eyebrow. ". . . That's all fine, Mione, but. . . wait, what are we talking about?" Hermione smiled at his usual obliviousness, but it quickly disappeared in her distant expression. Noticing her seriousness, Ron sighed. "Sorry. Take your time."

A long, awkward silence came and went as Hermione thought of what to say. At least she had her wand when she had told Ginny; now, not only was her wand normal again, but now she had to tell Ron, and she had no words to express it. "Is it about your being sick?" he asked, trying to help her along. She nodded uncertainly. "So, you know what's wrong with you?" she nodded again. "Well then," he prodded gently.

Hermione sighed and swallowed, closing her eyes. "Alright. What I mean to say is. . . I'm. . . I . . . wait." she said, stopping abruptly. "You have to promise you'll. . .ugh. . ."Ron wrapped her in his arms tenderly and looked at her with warm eyes, hoping that it would bring her strength enough to talk. She wanted desperately to look away from his face, but she couldn't. She just couldn't do it. So, instead, she let a single tear fall down her cheek as she whispered painfully, "I'm pregnant."

Ron blinked, and when his eyes opened again, they were wide, full of unreadable thoughts, full of questions. His face seemed so peculiar, actually, that it would have been rather amusing had it not been such a serious situation. Without even a word, he held her tightly, his eyes closed so no tears could escape. "Um. . . wow." he paused. "Are you alright?"Hermione breathed quickly, her tears starting to flow. He loved her. He really did. And he wasn't going anywhere.

"I love you." She whispered, grabbing onto him.

"I love you too." he whispered, his tears clearly taking over his voice. "Wow, I. .. wow." Ron smiled weakly and wiped Hermione's tears, causing her to smile and laugh with him. "Look at us. We're such saps." he said as he rubbed his eyes, chuckling the whole time. "A baby, huh?" Hermione nodded. "Well. . .a few years early can't hurt, I guess." he joked.

Hermione paused and frowned. "Except. . . Azkaban."

Ron stopped as if only just realizing and looked down at his hands before nodding. "Uh. . . Once they find out, yeah. But it'll only be a few months; just until the baby's born. 5 months, at most." He smiled weakly at her. "Don't worry about it." Hermione nodded, smiling again. "Okay." Ron laughed, taking her in for one more hug.

* * *

"No, that doesn't make sense then! You can't just take my bishop like that!" Harry argued, confused. 

Ginny shook her head sarcastically. "Sorry. Bishop's mine." she said, prodding her queen forward on the chess board. Harry sighed in defeat and fell backwards on his pillow. Ginny laughed, rearranging her legs so she was more comfortable on the bed. "Your move, love." she mocked.

Harry looked back at the chess board hopelessly, looking for any possible moves at all that wouldn't cost him another piece. "Where's Ron when you need him! He'd have this whole board cleared up for me by now if he were here."

Ginny shrugged. "He's up talking with Hermione."

He sighed seriously, looking at Ginny. "You have no idea what's wrong with her?"

"I don't think anyone does." she replied. It was technically true; she didn't consider it a lie.

Suddenly, the door burst open, and a completely distraught Ron entered, dropping down on his bed before crying more. Ginny and Harry both jumped into attention. "Ron, what is it?" Harry asked.

Ron shook his head quickly. "I'm such an idiot! She's not sick; she's pregnant! How could I have missed that?"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Who's pregnant?"

Ginny sighed and looked down at her lap. "Hermione is."

Ron looked up at her. "You mean you _knew_ about this?" Ginny nodded. Ron instantly stood, coming to yell in her face as siblings commonly do. "Why didn't you tell me? My _God_, Ginny. . ."

Ginny stood, staring him down. "Because it's not my place, okay? As a matter of fact, it's none of my business! Absolutely none at all!"

Since he couldn't argue something he agreed with, Ron just fell back down on his bed, leaving Harry to look between the two in complete disbelief and confusion. "Wait. . . what's going on?"

"Hermione's pregnant." Ginny said bluntly.

Harry nodded slowly, trying to comprehend it. "And it's Ron's-"

"Gee, Sherlock, nice guess!" Ron snapped angrily.

"Leave him alone, Ron! He doesn't know anything about it!" Ginny shot back. Ron shook his head, sighing as he ran a hand through his hair. Ginny let her anger ebb away as she watched her brother wringing his hands in anxiety.

"What'm I supposed to about this?" he whispered. "She's gonna get really sick . . . I just know it . . ." He shook his head. "Shite." he whispered in torment as he began to cry again.

Ginny fought with her sense of sibling rivalry for a few seconds before sitting next to her big brother and hugging him in comfort, letting him hold on to her and cry on her shoulder. Harry took this as a prod and sat down on his best friend's other side, patting his back comfortingly. "Take it easy, mate." he tried softly. "We're right here."

* * *

Hey everyone! Thank you sooo much for all of your reviews, I really appreciate them! I'm writing a chapter for something else now that I finished this chapter, and once that chapter is finished, I'll start on another one. I'm aiming for 65 reviews totaled after this chapter's uploaded! Help me get there and I'll bring more your way! ;) Love, Suki 

_formatting updated July 26, 2006_


	5. Absence

Thanks, Mate

_Chapter five; absence_

* * *

Ron lay on the couch closest to the fire, pondering the day's events. Not a soul had been in the common room since night had fallen and the Gryffindors wearily dragged on to their dormitories. But not Ron. He stayed right where he was, even to this late hour. There was no way in hell he would be able to sleep, so why even try? There was no point in it, really. The same question kept repeating itself in his mind; how could this happen? Well . . . no, not exactly. . . he knew perfectly well how it happened. He just couldn't understand why. 

"Hey, Big Brother." Ginny said playfully as she hit his head and sat down on the chair opposite him, bringing him out of his trance.

"Hm? Oh. . . hey."He cleared his throat."What're you doing up?"

Ginny shrugged. "Harry elbowed me in his sleep and woke me up. Noticed you weren't there." Ron nodded, his eyes still fixed on the fire. His sister sighed and started to stare at the flames, as well. "What're you thinking about?" she asked, even though they both knew the answer to that, but he answered, nonetheless.

"Just. . . things."

She nodded solemnly. They sat in silence for a few moments, just gazing into the fire. It was awkward for Ginny; However, Ron was glad she was there. She exhaled deeply before speaking again.

"If it makes any difference, I haven't known for more that a week." Ron looked at her curiously, unaware of the point. "Just. . . thought you should know she wasn't trying to hide it from you for too long."

Ron smiled and averted his eyes again. "Thanks." His eyes grew sad. "I just don't understand it, Ginny. . . why did it have to be now?" he exhaled before adding, "Why did it have to be _her_?"

Ginny shrugged. "Because you decided to rock the bed."

"That's not funny." he retorted through gritted teeth.

Ginny shook her head. "I just don't understand how you did it without anyone knowing. Our house is bloody full of people in the summer, Ron! Absolutely full! How in hell's name did you manage?"

Ron's expression didn't change. "Fred knew about it. I made him swear he'd keep quiet."

Ginny picked her feet up off the floor and rested them against the edge of the table in front of her. "Well, if Fred knows, then George does, as well. It's only expected."

Ron shook his head. "No. I would've noticed him looking at me funny. Fred did for ages." he said sadly. He could only imagine how Fred would look at him now if he knew what was going on. Blinking in a sudden mix of curiosity and concern, he looked at Ginny for a moment. "Hey, Ginny. . . you and Harry . . . you haven't. . .?" he asked, as if he were to say 'if you're pregnant, as well, this is the time to tell me'.

Ginny shook her head reassuringly. "A little fooling around, but we haven't had sex." she admitted. Ron sighed in relief. It proved Harry's loyalty to him, in a way; at least he knew he wasn't violating his sister and telling him completely otherwise. Not that Harry would ever do such a thing, of course.

Then, taking her brother out of another trance of deep thought, Ginny took his hand in hers and place her other hand on his forehead to push his hair back, as if it would help ease his anguish. She sighed when she was sure she had his attention. "Ron. . . When I was still little, you were the only one I ever came to for help because I always knew that you would be patient with me and that I could trust you. I looked up to you. And you always made sure that I knew that even though we fought, you still loved me. And people like you. . . they always stay like that. They don't grow out of it. That's why I know that regardless of what anyone else thinks, you didn't pressure Hermione into this. It just happened." She paused to fight back her tears and continued before she had completely lost. "I don't know what you're thinking right now or what you feel like right now, and if I'm being honest, I hope I never have to know. But I want you to know that Hermione doesn't blame you for this and that you shouldn't think like it's all your fault. You both decided you were ready, and this is what happened. No one is at fault, Ron. Especially you." She shook her head and began to shake as tears consumed her voice and flooded her eyes. "And even if you were, she'd still love you. _I'd_ still love you." Ron sat up and brought his little sister up on his lap, hugging her close while she cried, just like the times she had spoken of when they were younger. But this time was different. She wasn't crying because the twins took candy from her or Mum sent her off to bed without supper; she was crying because the real world finally decided to slap them all in the face, and Ron and Hermione had to suffer for it. Whenever she'd come to him like this, he'd just sit there and hug her until the crying stopped, whether he wanted to or not; this was the first time that she'd gotten to him so badly that he went right on crying along with her. Maybe he was crying because someone finally understood his position; or he just hadn't got over the shock of Hermione yet, maybe. Regardless of the reason, both just went on crying, huddled together like scared little five year old children who wanted their mum real bad.

That might've made them cry even harder, considering she couldn't know about this, either. Harry, Hermione, Ginny and Ron were the only ones who knew the full story, and for now, they were the only ones who were safe enough to know. Still. . . Ginny wished desperately she could tell her mum. She wouldn't treat them like criminals and scold Ron to Kingdom Come. No, she was above that. In fact, she'd even be happy. She was too naïve to put two and two together, in a way. That certainly had its perks, especially when dealing with such emotionally exhausting situations such as these. Ginny bit her lip as another bout of tears came along due to her thoughts. "I wish Mum were here." she whispered.

Ron was almost too weak from crying to respond. However, when the time came that he found his voice again, it was too late to reply, so instead, he held his sister tight and whispered, "I love you."

Ginny placed a kiss on his cheek and held on to him tightly, tearing out of sympathy for him. "I love you, too."

* * *

Hermione awoke the next morning to find that everyone had already left for classes. She sighed sleepily as she rolled out of bed, holding her stomach from her now usual morning pains. Lying down to help ease the pain, she paused a moment as her head crinkled on a piece of parchment. She curiously unfolded it and looked down at Ron's scribbled handwriting. 

_I know you don't think this is my fault, but I'm at fault just as much as you are. I was up thinking all night, and I think this happened for a reason. I just don't know what. In any case, we shouldn't be upset about this all just because they're gonna lock me up a few months. Who cares if they put me in Azkaban? I know you're scared, and hell, I'm scared too, but for all its worth, there's no one else in this world I'd ever want to have a child with besides you. You're my whole world. I don't want to wake you, so I'll come to check on you at lunch._

Hermione sighed. That damn Ron. He always knew just what to say. She almost found herself smiling. Not that deep down she was still extremely devastated at what might happen, which was currently conveyed by the tears on her face, but what happened next devastated her even more.

An owl's shrill cry was heard as a barn owl from the school flew through her open window, startling her. Whether the bird hadn't noticed her jump or simply didn't care, it held out its leg unpatiently, as if it were sick of having to fly around the castle with letters strapped to its ankle 12 hours a day, until Hermione managed to untie the envelope. Then, with a relieved hoot, the bird took off again, leaving Hermione to read the news inside.

_Dear Miss Granger,_

_It has been brought to my attention as both your professor and house leader that both your classes and mealtimes have been neglected constantly as of late with neither notice nor permission. As consequences arise with matters such as these, I should ask that you report to my office upon receiving this letter so we can discuss your absence. Please try not to be tardy, as I have other urgent business to attend to._

_Sincerely,_

_Professor M. McGonagall_

Hermione gasped instantly. Surely Professor McGonagall would want an explanation. . .

. . . but what was she supposed to say?

* * *

hey guys! sorry for the long wait! this chapter hit a block, so I had to cut it short, but the next chapter is well underway, as it is the big moment; the moment when everyone finds out and Hermione's father has a few things to say to our dear Ronald. hope ya like! please review - the faster the reviews come, the sooner the next chapters come! 

Suki

_formatting updated July 26, 2006_


	6. Discussion

Thanks, Mate

_Chapter six; Discussion_

* * *

AN: hey guys, this chapter might be a little short, but, I think I'll get off the hook because it contains… DUN DUN DUN! The moment you've all been waiting for! THE BIG REVEAL! WHOO! Lol. Going with my current planning, after this chapter there will be one more in between (at least; possibly 2) before Ron gets thrown into Azkaban. Well, here goes!

* * *

"Um. . . Professor?" Hermione squeaked, shoving the door open just enough to look in. "You asked to see me?" 

"Yes, yes, Miss Granger. Please sit; I'm very busy." Professor McGonagall answered, not even bothering to look up as she continued to scribble. She gulped hard before entering and following orders, which was when her house head finally looked up at her. She set her quill down. "I assume the reason for this meeting is clear?" Hermione nodded slowly, staring down at her hands. "May I ask why you haven't been attending class?" Professor McGonagall prodded. Hermione just sat there, not possessing enough gall to shake her head. Her teacher raised an eyebrow. "Miss Granger?"

Silence filled the room as much as discomfort as Hermione skimmed her brain for any possible excuse. But none came to mind. The professor cleared her throat and stood from her seat, looking down at her student through her spectacles. "I must inform you, Miss Granger," she started, "that I am not all together pleased with this behavior. As your house head, you are my responsibility from when you step through those doors until the end of term." Hermione nodded, not meeting eyes. "I have no choice but to place you in after-school detention until you choose to admit the reason for your absence."

Hermione's eyes shot up. "But Professor. . ."

"Do I make myself clear, Miss Granger?" she asked sternly. Hermione sighed heavily and nodded. "Very well, then. I expect you to be in your next class as soon as possible. Understood?" Hermione tipped her head slightly and left the room, not even bothering to wait for dismissal.

How could she do this to her?

* * *

Hermione looked around the room uneasily before entering and took her seat quietly. Thank God Ron was always late. This way, he couldn't make a scene. 

Well, that's what she thought at least.

"Ron. . ." Harry started, poking Ron in the arm, who was scribbling away like mad on a piece of parchment.

"Not now, Harry! It's almost done!" He said frantically, pausing for a moment. "Oh, Merlin. What was that bloody. . ."

Harry sighed. "Ron, . . ." He repeated.

"Hold on, Harry! Ugh! I told you. . ."

"Ron, I really think you should see this."

"It can wait until I'm done with this! It was due yesterday as it is!"

"Alright, then. I'll have to go talk to Hermione myself." Harry said casually, getting up out of his seat.

"Yeah, yeah, go ahea-. . ." Ron stopped. "Hermione? Where?" Harry heaved a sigh and plopped back down in his seat, his point made.

With that, Ron's eyes swivelled to the very girl he was looking for, who was too busy shifting apprehensively in her seat and staring at her desktop to notice his futile attempts to catch her attention; in fact, it seemed as if he had caught everyone's attention but hers. He shot everyone in the room a dirty look that clearly displayed his insistence on the practice of minding one's own business as he rose from his seat, and sat in the chair beside Hermione for about a second before the professor's voice rang through the classroom.

"Mister Weasley, I believe your seat is beside Mister Potter?"

Ron blinked, processing the voice before looking up into none other than the face of Professor Trelawney. "Excuse me. . . Professor. . . isn't this. . .?" Ron started, presenting the same idea as everyone else's face; wasn't this Defense Against the Dark Arts? So what was Trelawney doing there?

She laughed in a manner that would be considered 'heartily' in terms of someone such as herself, and shifted her spectacles before explaining herself. "Yes, yes, not to worry; Your professor had, as it would seem, a matter of great importance that needed his attention, and he thought it wise that, given the topic, I should be just the person to fill in for today's lesson. So, Ron, if you would please take your rightful seat. . .?" she prodded. Ron nodded slightly and shot a curious glance towards Hermione, who still found no need to raise her eyes from her desk.

"Now, then." The professor started. "The subject I have come to address with you today is very, very important, and shall be regarded with the utmost solemnity." she warned, her tone becoming more and more malevolent with each breath. "I'm afraid that thus far, you have not come to realize the full potential of a spell of the Dark Arts in the wrong hands." Her eyes closed as her head shook disturbingly from such intensity. "It is a fate worse than death to fall victim to such a twist of fate, I daresay. What you see here today must never be used for wickedness, else, may you burn at the true spirit of evil's very feet."

A grotesque silence befell about the room as the students passed frightened glances to each other. Trelawney cleared her throat loudly and blinked hard, as if coming out of a schizophrenic trance. Every eye turned to her, waiting anxiously for her next words (All, of course, save for Malfoy, who was quite entertained with his rather 'charming' illustration of Harry.). "The art of Probaration could be a course in of itself. . . a very interesting one, at that. . . in a disturbing sort of way. . ."

Hermione's eyes shot open. "P-p-p-rob-baration-n, Prof-f-fessor-r-r?" Trelawney gazed at her.

"Ah, so you're familiar with the craft, then, Miss Granger? How. . ." she paused. ". . ._unlikely_. . . for someone of your aura. . . or lack thereof." She muttered humorously to herself.

Acting as though the insult was never issued against her, Hermione's eyes shot towards Ron's, and he stared back in a confused manner. _It's no use_. She thought desperately. _He doesn't know what it is._ Feeling lightheaded, her hand shot in the air. "Professor. . . would I perchance be permitted to. . ."

"A walk, Miss Granger? What a pleasant idea." Professor Trelawney commented, showing off her foresight a bit. "However, your head of house has asked that I make sure you're in attendance at all times. I'm most dreadfully sorry, dear. Now, then, if you'll turn to page 532. . ."

Ron blinked. "What was that about?" he whispered, knocking Harry with his elbow.

"What was what?"

"I think McGonagall's got Hermione on watch. That's why she showed up."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "You sure you're right in the head today, mate?"

Ron shot a dirty look at him before reverting his eyes to Hermione, almost shaking in her seat. "Something's wrong." he stated apprehensively.

"You'll, of course, be required to know what each of these spells are. . . this one, in particular." Trelawney said curiously, flicking her wand as a single section in their books started to glow. "The greatest wonder in all of Divination and the Dark Arts; the Deadman's Charm."

Neville's gulp was so loud, Professor Dumbledore up in his tower might have wondered what the peculiar sound had been. "The D-deadma-an's Ch-ch-arm? W-why's it called-d th-that?"

"Because, Mister Longbottom," Trelawney drawled, aiming for a rather dramatic effect. "Once this spell is cast against you, your life is in total jeopardy. You're completely vulnerable to your enemies, all your deepest fears exposed for them all to see. You see, children, this spell, once cast, will reveal your most greatest weakness to your opponent, leaving no other boundaries between you and the unrelenting face of death itself; unless, of course, that one should be a firm believer in the practice of mercy." She sighed, signifying just how rare that scenario was, but, had it not been for that little gleam of hope added to the conversation, several students within her sight might've needed to be sent to the hospital wing.

"Now," she continued regretfully, "As it is, it is a requirement of the council that each student be perfectly capable of casting this spell, should the need for self-defense arise. Teaching such a dark craft is not something I am altogether proud of, but it must be done for protection's sake. So, then, we will be performing the first half of the spell, and _only_ the first half. Should I catch any one of you in the process of carrying out the spell revealed to you by this charm on your classmate, I shall have you on strict probation in every aspect of your life at Hogwarts until your graduation. Do I make myself clear?" No one could even manage a peep. (Save for Hermione, who felt a rush of relief fall over her. No one would dare hex her in Trelawney's presence after such a stern warning.)

"In order to perform the spell, you must point your wand to the classmate sitting beside you and call out '_inimicus'_. A mist will then appear before your eyes, bearing a symbol, which you shall all look up in your books, where the type of spell your classmate is most vulnerable to shall be conveyed. You will, of course, be required to memorize each of these symbols and their meanings."

"Hey, Potter!" Draco hissed, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I wonder what your biggest weakness is. . . Maybe it's the Weasel's sis-"

"Watch how you end that sentence, Malfoy, or I'll make that big ole' weakness in your pants ache for the next few weeks of your life." Harry growled through gritted teeth.

Malfoy snorted. "Well, It's bigger than _yours_."

"As fascinating as this conversation is, gentlemen," Trewlawney said suddenly, causing Malfoy to jump. Harry snickered. "I have a class to teach, and you'll need a partner in order for me to continue, Mister Malfoy. There seems to be a vacancy beside Miss Granger. . ."

Hermione choked.

"Well, Professor, there's no need to trouble Malfoy. I'd be happy to work with Hermione, so. . ." Ron continued, thinking as quickly as he could, grabbing his stuff and standing.

"Thank you for your generosity, Mister Weasley," Trelawney replied, seating Ron back down by means of pressing on his head. "But I hardly find it necessary."

Before Ron could even protest (not that he had a good one off hand), Lavender's hand shot in the air. "Um, Professor, Maybe I could work with her."

"That's fine, Lavender, dear; however, I have already asked Mister Malfoy to fill the empty space. So, Draco, if you please?" Ron turned to Lavender just in time to see her sigh in triumph. She suddenly caught gazes with him, and immediately looked the other way as if it hadn't happened. Ron blinked. What was that about?

He turned back, watching Malfoy reluctantly take the empty chair beside Hermione, watching her scared, anxious expression. He had to something. And he had to do it fast.

Malfoy snickered, looking at Hermione. "Just my luck. I'm stuck with the Weasel boy's whore." Hermione didn't even bother contradicting him as she reached into her robe as conservatively as possible, reaching for her wand.

"Raise your wands, please! And," Trelawney descended her arm down in one swift motion. "_Inimicus!_"

"_Inimicus!_" the class chimed, their wands pointed at one another. Mists of all different colors and shapes appeared before their eyes as they gazed with wonder. Some ruffled through the pages of their books, eager to find a translation, while others chose to stare just a moment longer.

Ron peered over at Hermione's mist, focusing hard to see the shape inside at such a distance, dying to decipher it before he finished with Harry's.

"This is such crap." Malfoy muttered, looking fervently for the symbol in his book. "It's not anywhere. What the hell. . .?"

"A hex, Miss Granger?" Trelawney asked peculiarly. Malfoy sighed, his question answered as he scribbled on a sheet of parchment. "How curious." she squinted at Hermione, who was now so shocked she could hardly speak. "Yes. Very curious." She finished before moving on to the next desk.

Malfoy suddenly smirked. "Wait, a hex? That's it?"

"No. Your weakness is a dormancy potion." she said curtly, not even looking up from her book; she knew exactly what he meant. She just refused to let him use it against her.

"Damn, and I thought you'd be stronger than that. Figures, you're weaker than your little friends over there." he raised his wand teasingly. "Little Hermione can't handle a little hex, can she? I wonder. . ."

"Don't!" she gasped.

Malfoy's eyebrow raised. "Don't what? Oh, this?" he said, already in position to cast a full-body hex.

"Malfoy, no! Please, please, don't." she begged, almost moved to tears. "Trelawney said. . ."

"Aw, come on, now. A little hex never hurt anyone. Well, no one but you, maybe." He laughed at his own joke.

"Please. I'll do anything you want. I swear I will. Just don't hex me. Please." se pleaded, ready to beg him on her knees, if need be.

"Oh God." Ron whispered, horrified. "He's gonna do it. He's gonna do it!" He shook Harry madly, as if asking for something to do. Without a second thought, Ron shot out of his seat and grabbed Draco by the collar, pulling him down on the ground out of his chair as the spell left his lips.

"Ron!" Hermione screamed, as Malfoy's wand began to turn a slight shade of blue. Hermione gasped for air, almost completely unable to breathe. Malfoy stared breathlessly as the transformation took place, unaware of anything to do with it. Every witch in the room gasped, starting to scream in terror. Ron's vision grew blurry as he shook. Hermione bolted out of the room before anyone even knew who it was, completely distraught.

Ron looked between Malfoy and the door Hermione had just run out of, deciding on what to do. He didn't leave, however, without first kicking Malfoy in the head, letting a line of blood trickle down from his nose as shrieks intensified. "This isn't over." he muttered, running out of the room, only narrowly avoiding Trelawney's grasp and the utter chaos that errupted throughout the classroom.

"Ron!" Harry yelled as he stood, watching Malfoy's mangled frame on the ground, trying to process what had happened.

"You _bastard_! What the fuck is wrong with you?"Lavender screamed, snatching Malfoy's wand and hitting him harder than her fists could take, yet she hardly felt her hands sting.

Harry jumped on top of her, attempting to restrain her, but failed horribly. "Lavender! Stop it!"

With that, Trelawney pulled all three of them apart, however, it took quite an effort to stop Lavender's fervent battle of revenge.

"Leave, all of you!" Trelawney barked. "Now!" she warned, rage burning in her eyes as students screamed and ran out of the room, abandoning books and quills galore. Lavender tugged Harry's arm to follow her out of the room, but proved unsuccessful. "Lavender, Harry, don't you move if you value your lives." They stopped dead in their tracks, falling to the ground. "I shall be back once Malfoy has been delivered to the hospital wing. You are not to leave this room, understood?" Harry nodded obediently, while Lavender found only strength enough to stare as Trelawney gathered the possibly unconscious (or traumatized, more or less) Draco in a levitation spell and sped out of the room.

Lavender shook. "Oh, shite." she whispered. "Did I just. . ."

Harry nodded, just as stunned. "Lavender. . . Hermione. . . you know, don't you?" he asked dreadfully.

Lavender only found strength enough to stare.

* * *

"Hermione! Wait!" Ron called, running almost right behind her. She was so disturbed she could barely respond. She just kept running, her cries filling the empty hall. "Hermione!" He begged, tears streaming down his cheeks. She collapsed on the ground, clutching her stomach as she cried violently. Ron dropped to her side, desperately trying to sit her upright. "Hermione, please! Listen to me!" He begged, fighting the tears as best he could. She shook madly, showing no sign that she had even heard him speak. "Mione, look at me! Can you hear me?" She moaned painfully, crying even harder, if it was possible. "Look at me, I said!" He placed his hands on either side of her head and shook her until she understood enough to look up. "Listen to me. You need to calm down. Can you understand me?" he asked, pronouncing every word perfectly as he could as he panted. She nodded fervently, and closed her eyes as she wailed, showing she had no intention of calming down.

"No, no, you have to listen to me! Calm down! Breathe!" He breathed deeply one after the other until she picked it up, mimicking his deep breaths until she was reduced to silent whimpers. "There, that's it. Just breathe." he cooed, relieved he had gotten through to her. He bit his lip. How could she have gotten so discomposed so quickly?

"Shhh. It's alright." he whispered, barely able to speak. He couldn't bear to see her like this. He just couldn't take it. "I promise. It's okay. Just please. Calm down." She nodded quickly, revealing her effort to obey, however, she clutched her stomach harder and harder until he looked at her. "Does it hurt?" he whispered. She nodded feebly, seeming at peace when he realized her point. The shock had hit her so hard, she was almost having cramps. He sighed, collecting her in his arms, feeling her shiver helplessly against his body.

"Well, well." Ron instantly turned his head in horror to see Professor McGonagall looming over them, a look of resentment on her face. "It would seem that we have far more to discuss than I expected."

* * *

AN: well, before I say anything, I just wanna say thanks to all those who haven't lost faith in me. I was shocked to see that this story is actually a whole year old now. (How whack is that? My life sucks.) Im really sorry it took so long, and I'd honestly love to say it'll never happen again, but I don't wanna make any promises. (Although, summer's coming up, so I'll get a chunk of it done then.) No matter what, though, I AM FINISHING THIS STORY. Eventually. I WILL NOT ABANDON IT. I've done it too many times before, and I'm not doing it anymore. I'm gonna finish this. I promise. Thanks again for keeping up and still reviewing, even though I don't deserve it. 

I love you all! Till next time!

Suki

_formatting updated July 26, 2006_


	7. Trust

Thanks, Mate

_chapter seven; Trust_

* * *

AN: hey guys! Well, now that John clued me into just how old this fic is and scared the crap out of me (btw, thanks for that, dude :P) I think I'm gonna get this chapter over with. I was kinda looking forward to writing this one anyways :P btw, I just wanna make a side note: I'm still working with this as if HBP never happened. It would be too confusing to incorporate it now. (btw, did anyone else think it was extremely ficcy?) 

Disclaimer: wow, it's been a while since I remembered to put one of these :P anyways, whenever JK Rowling decides to put Fred up for auction on Ebay, I'll be there. Until then, they're all hers.

* * *

Ginny walked into the room silently, closing the door behind her as she stared at her feet. Harry turned his head to look at her. "Ginny?"

She exhaled heavily, trying desperately to withhold her composure. "They want us to be there. Dumbledore and McGonagall, I mean."

Harry nodded, averting his eyes thoughtfully. "Hm. So, they're mailing your parents, then?"

She nodded. "And Hermione's. They'll be here tomorrow."

Silence.

Ginny hiccupped subtly, her eyes starting to well with tears. "I'm not telling them anything. Nothing at all. I swear it." Her vow ended with an even shaker voice than it began with, and Harry rose from his spot and held her.

She closed her eyes and buried her face into his shoulder as she wept mutely; she just didn't have the strength to bawl as hard as she wanted. "Shhh." he cooed. "It's alright. We'll just. . ."

"No, Harry." she contradicted. "It's _not_ alright. It'll never be alright again. It's all over; all of it." Her morbid babbling continued for what seemed hours, yet all Harry could do was listen. He couldn't argue; after all, she was right.

". . .They're gonna take him away." she whispered, her voice terribly low and stricken with fear. "They can't. . . don't let them take him away. . ."

"Ginny. . ."

"They can't take him! They can't! I won't let them!" she screamed, her desperation coming out in now loud, violent bouts of tears.

"Ginny, listen to me. . . there's. . ." Harry swallowed hard. "There's not much we can really do. Even if we don't tell them anything. . . well, we don't really know enough to tell them anything they could use against us . . . but. . . I dunno, it's just. . ."

Ginny paused, and silence encompassed the room. "It's just what, Harry?" Harry didn't dare speak a word. She was forming an accusation to spin on him; he could just feel it. She pulled away from him, staring at him as she whispered. "You think they should take him, don't you?"

"Are you _mad_? That's not what I meant at all, and you know it!"

"Then, what, Harry? What did you mean?"

"Look, all I'm saying is that we can't get our hopes up. This is bigger than breaking a few school rules again, Ginny! This is the _law_. _A fricken universal law_! And we can't do a damn ruddy thing about it!" Harry stopped, appalled at what he was saying. How could he say that to her? How could he possibly look her in the eyes ever again after saying something like that?

Ginny stood there silently for a moment, shuddering and holding on to herself like a little child. She didn't speak, didn't move. . . Harry barely thought she was breathing altogether. "You know. . . it's funny." she whispered, so low that Harry barely caught it. "I thought. . . at least _you'd_ understand. . ." she shook her head as she lost the fight with her tears, bolting out of the room as quickly as her legs would allow.

"Ginny! Wait!"

* * *

". . .Is she awake?" 

"No, no. She's been asleep for some time now. Leave her be."

"Is it alright if I wait? I won't wake her, I promise." Lavender added.

Madame Pomfrey sighed. "You promise, then?" Lavender nodded. "Alright then. But don't you let me catch you breaking your word."

Lavender murmured a word of thanks and sat beside Hermione's bed, staring down at her while the hospital wing echoed with only the sound of Madame Pomfrey's heels on the wooden floor. Hermione seemed reasonably peaceful, although, her face still held a certain sense of shock from the day's events. Feeling a tad uneasy, Lavender let her eyes wander to find Malfoy in the bed across the room, lying awake, staring off into space with a somber, guilty energy emitting from him. Lavender paused. He couldn't possibly feel guilty, for once in his life?

"Lavender?"

Lavender's head turned immediately as Hermione groaned and rubbed her eyes, sitting up slightly. Lavender jumped in her seat. "Oh, no, it's alright! You don't have to sit up!"

Hermione ignored her with a yawn. "It's alright. What're you doing here?"

Lavender placed a small bouquet of flowers in her arms, speaking only when she looked up at her curiously. "I made sure they didn't smell that strong. My mum had a baby two years ago; she nearly puked at every little smell."

"You didn't have to - . . ."

"No," Lavender interrupted. "I wanted to."

Hermione paused, smiling weakly. "Thanks." Lavender nodded with a smile, and Hermione lowered her head gently to smell them. Lavender played with her fingers nervously, wondering if this was such a good idea after all. Hermione paused. "Lavender?"

"Hm?"

"It's just. . ." she stopped, staring down at the flowers in her hands. "How did you know?" she whispered.

Lavender bit her lip. "That day, in the library. . . I saw your wand, and. . ." the breath caught in Hermione's throat, and Lavender hastened to explain herself. "And I knew you had only just found out so. . ."

Hermione nodded, her eyes sparkling with tears. "Umhm." Lavender's breathing became heavier, frustrated at herself for making Hermione upset. "I'm sorry." she whispered, wiping her tears as she looked up at Lavender's shocked face.

"The last thing you should be is sorry. _I'm _sorry!" Lavender's hand enveloped hers as her pale eyes glistened gracefully. "I'm sorry I knew. I shouldn't have. It's not fair to you, or to Ron, or. . ." she paused. "Ron?" Hermione nodded. Lavender shook her head, fighting her tears back. "I didn't tell anyone. Not one person. And I won't, either; not ever."

How long they sat there, just staring at each other, neither of them knew, and neither of them cared. Because in that one, single moment, they understood each other so perfectly for the very first time. They hugged before they even noticed it, recognizing their new friendship.

"Um. . .Should I. . .?"

They let go of each other, looking to their newly arrived guest to find Ron, looking slightly distracted and a tad paler than Lavender remembered him to be the last time she saw him. He scratched the back of his head, backing away so as not to interrupt their conversation. "No, Ron, wait." Lavender said, standing as she brushed her hand across her eyes to erase her tears. "It's alright. I was just leaving." She smiled at Hermione, who nodded in thanks, and smiled at Ron as she passed.

Ron raised his finger at Hermione to tell her he'd be right back, and stopped Lavender at the door. "Lavender, hold on." she turned and looked at him peculiarly. "Um. . . Harry told me, you know. . . what you did up there. . ." Ron paused. "Thanks."

She smiled understandingly. "You're welcome." she whispered, closing the door behind her as she left.

"What happened?" Hermione asked as he sat on her bed, hands in his pockets.

"They're uh. . ." he swallowed. "Mum and Dad, and the lot. . . they're all coming. Yours, as well." He smiled weakly, obviously dumbfounded with shock and terror all at the same time.

"Well, you had to have expected that." she said bluntly.

He shrugged. "Well, yeah, I know, but. . ." he paused. "I dunno, maybe I just can't believe it's happening like this." He mumbled, more to himself than anyone. "It's just so . . . so _complicated_, yeah?" Hermione nodded slowly, and he let her pull his shaking hand from his pocket and hold it. He snickered.

"What?" she asked.

"I'm so stupid." he said, sounding completely positive that it was the truest statement he'd ever made. "I thought. . . you know, maybe. . . for once in my life, I could be just a little stronger for you. Just a bit. Cause let's face it, Hermione, I'm not strong, and I'm not brave, and I never bloody will be." He paused, his eyes welling with tears, and Hermione's face wrinkled in thought. ". . . I'm scared out of my bloody mind, and it's just so selfish of me, I can't stand myself." he said bitterly, sniffing.

Silence filled the air at his confession, and his hand shook more and more as his grip on her hand tightened. Just looking at him made her whimper silently. "Ron?" she whispered hopefully, holding his hands tightly, prompting him to look at her. She swallowed. "Do you love me?" He nodded fiercely, his gorgeous, emerald eyes glimmering with moisture. She bit her lip. "That's all I care about." she whispered, and he pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, holding her tenderly. She giggled softly.

"What?" he asked.

Her laughter gained volume. "Oh, stop crying. You're so dramatic."

He grinned mischievously, throwing her on her back as he tickled her, sending her into hysterics. "Dramatic! _I'm_ dramatic? Oh, please!" he retorted, though she was laughing so hard, he barely thought she'd heard.

When he finally saw fit to get up and stop tickling her, her laughter slowly died down enough for her to speak. "Know what?"

"What?"

"I'm hungry."

Ron blinked. "Do you want something to eat?" she nodded, and he raised an eyebrow. "Do you really? You mean, if I go get something, you'll eat it?"

She kicked him in the rib before speaking. "Go get me some grapefruit."

"Grapefruit." he repeated. "Umhm. I suppose you'd like tartar sauce with that?" he said sarcastically, however, her eyes widened at the thought.

"Oh God, _that's _what I've been craving! Yeah, get the tartar sauce!"

He nodded slowly, just a tad freaked out. "Okay, so grapefruit with. . . tartar sauce."

"Or pinto beans."

"Pinto. . .?"

"No, wait! Start over! I want a caramel apple with mustard. Oh, and those little anchovies they have in the Great Hall on Tuesdays? Get a few of those. Thanks, love!"

Ron nodded with wide eyes and a weird expression on his face, kissing her temple as he got up to leave. "Uh, sure." he stopped. "Wait, what's a pint - Ugh, forget it. . . beright back."

She smiled and turned over as Ron left, scratching his head in confusion.

_They really are gorgeous_. she thought, picking up Lavender's flowers again. She reached into her robes and retrieved her wand, flicking it thoughtlessly at the table beside her bed. Nothing happened. She blinked, perturbed at the thought of actually _trying_ when conjuring something. She flicked it again. Nothing. Then, all of a sudden, without her even raising her wand again, a glass vase appeared on the table, already filled with water, and she turned her head just in time to see Malfoy stuffing his wand back into his robes. She stared at him thoughtfully, though he seemed to be completely indulged in the practice of staring at random objects beside his own bed. She cleared her throat. "Um. . . Draco? Did you just . . .?"

"Yeah."

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it." He said bitterly, beating his pillow once or twice before laying his head down and closing his eyes. She undid the paper on the flowers as quietly as she could, dropping them into the vase and disposing of the paper before lying down on her own pillow, napping lightly.

* * *

"Sirius's house?" Ron asked, puzzled. "Why there?" 

"Hermione's parents are muggles." Harry reminded him. "They need someplace neutral. At least, that's my guess."

Ron nodded. "Yeah, I guess."

"We've got to be downstairs to leave by second period. That's what McGonagall's letter says, anyways."

Ron blinked, finally rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he retrieved his towel to beat the morning rush to the showers. "We've got time, then."

"Yeah, we can go down to the showers later on, once everyone's gone off to first period." Harry said lazily, falling back on his bed.

"Nah." Ron replied. "I wanna, um. . . go talk to Hermione. . . before we leave, yeah?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, go on, then. Me and Ginny will catch up with you later."

"Alright. See ya." Ron said, walking out of the dormitory to the shower rooms downstairs.

Harry sighed, mentally kicking himself for seeming so relaxed about the situation. Ron wanted nothing more for himself to die before that meeting happened, and yet here he was, acting as if it were a bloody field trip! Ron was his best mate, damnit! How could he act like that?

Harry sighed, taking his glasses off as he closed his eyes. He was just not having any luck with the Weasleys.

* * *

"Ah, yes; thank you, Kreacher." Dumbledore chimed, taking his cup of tea and sipping it lightly. His cheerfulness made everyone cringe. How anyone could be cheerful at a time like this. . . 

"Filthy mudbloods, storming in again. . . Why, if my mistress only knew. . ." Kreacher muttered as he passed more cups around, stopping at Hermione's tall, dignified looking father and her warm, polite mother. "Muggles! Muggles, in our house!" Kreacher accused, pointing at them. "Filthy vermin! Be gone from my mistress's house! Mudbloods, oh, she'd have a heart attack, my poor mistress. . . But_ this!_" he screamed, slamming his tray down on the floor.

"Kreacher! That will do!" McGonagall said, astonished. Kreacher turned to look at her before storming out of the room, not at all quietly. Mrs. Weasley pulled her wand from her robes and petrified him in the next room, curtly shoving her wand back in her robes. She did not look entertained.

"Thank you, Molly." said Dumbledore, his face earning a certain seriousness before he continued. "I shall assume you all know why you are here." he said, gesturing towards Ron, Hermione, and Harry and Ginny, as well, sitting parallel to the adults. It rather reminded Harry of his hearing at the beginning of his fifth year. Hermione looked down at her lap the entire time, not once looking up, and Ron seemed to find the dust on the floor rather interesting as Ginny's expression became more and more distant. Harry seemed to be the only one who was bold enough to look at his superiors before him.

"Well?" McGonagall prodded, breaking the silence. "Have you anything to say for yourselves?"

Ginny choked. Ron and Hermione merely sat there, completely unchanged, as if no one had yet spoken.

"Hermione." Mr. Granger said, using every bone in his body not to use her middle name. She didn't move, but Ron's eyes turned, watching her anxiously. "Hermione, look at me." Her father persisted. Her head only sunk lower, her eyes closing. "Answer me, young lady!"

Ron reached into his pocket slowly, pulling out his handkerchief. He held it out to Hermione just long enough for her to grab it, but she seemed to want to hold on to his hand more than the handkerchief. "Get your hands off my daughter!" he yelled in Ron's direction, staring into his eyes so maniacally that he tugged his hand from her right away, but she wouldn't let him go.

"Mione. . ." he reasoned softly, watching her father's face turn purple, but she wouldn't hear it. She shook her head violently, whimpering softly. Ron's grasp on her hand tightened.

"I said 'get your hands off my daughter'." he growled.

"_Please_, sir." Ron begged weakly. "She doesn't feel well."

"And whose fault do you suppose that is?"

"Michael, please!" his wife implored, looking at Hermione. "Honey, I think you should go lie down."

"I'm not leaving." she whispered shakily.

"Then you answer your superiors when they speak to you, do you understand?" her father roared, and before anyone could react. . .

"Leave her alone!" Harry boomed, on his feet, face red with fury. Ginny looked at him. "Look at them! You're _terrorizing_ them!"

"Mister Potter. . ." McGonagall started, but before she could finish, Dumbledore waved his hand at her, and she stopped, looking at him curiously.

Mr. Granger stared at Harry with more rage than he'd ever seen in his life before answering. "Watch your tongue, boy."

"No, I won't!" he retorted. "She's your _daughter_! How could you talk to her like that? She's in pain, and Ron's only trying to help her, and what is it you're worried about? Getting him to _let go of her hand._ Have you any idea how _ridiculous _that is? Ron hasn't done anything wrong! In fact, he's being pretty damn respectful to you, giving her his kerchief instead of holding her."

"Harry. . ." Ron started.

Harry turned on him so fast, he barely realized he'd done it until he spoke. "No, Ron! He's not even giving you a chance, treating you like dirt like that! _Someone's_ got to say something! And you!" Harry turned on Dumbledore, McGonagall and the Weasleys, ignoring the look of shock on their faces completely. "You're letting him do it! How could you watch him talk to Hermione and Ron like that without saying anything?"

Harry stopped, realization dawning on him. "Because you want them to talk, as well." he murmured to himself. "You want them to talk!" he accused, eyeing every adult in front of him. "What could you possibly want them to say? Any of you! Haven't they endured enough without you coming in like this, treating them like bloody murderers? _Haven't they?_"

His whole body shook, and the room echoed with silence. No one dared to even breathe. "You should be ashamed of yourselves." he whispered, sitting down as the silence encompassed the room once more, tears pouring down his cheeks.

No one spoke for what seemed like ages. Only when Mrs. Weasley's spell seemed to have worn off and Kreacher's cries of "Betrayal!" and "Muggles, in my mistress's house!" rang throughout the house did they acknowledge the sudden hush.

"I think," Dumbledore began, gaining everyone's attention. "That we have had enough for one day." The stillness showed their agreement, and he continued. "Professor McGonagall and I could, perhaps, escort the children back to Hogwarts after Miss Granger has had some rest?" She nodded softly. "Splendid." he said, standing to walk out of the room, McGonagall in tow.

"Hold on, then." Mr. Granger said, standing so he was eye level with Dumbledore. "I'm not quite finished."

His wife tugged his shirt, begging him to sit. "Michael, please. . ." she whispered, tears streaming down her face.

Dumbledore, looking calm and collected as ever, replied as coolly as if he had been asked the time. "I believe, Mister Granger, as Harry has so kindly informed us, we've done enough for the time being." And with that, they were gone.

Harry, following suit, chose to stand as well, only to be scolded by Mrs. Weasley. "Harry Potter, you sit down." He sat at once; he didn't mind yelling at Hermione's father, however, Mrs. Weasley was _not_ a force to be reckoned with. She sat in silent fury for a moment, too angry to even look him in the eye. "Don't you ever,_ ever_, speak to Dumbledore like that again; do you hear me?" Harry blinked, nodding slowly. "You're indebted to that man in more ways than you could ever know. Now go on, all of you." Ron and Hermione looked at each other oddly before standing, following Harry and Ginny out of the room.

"Dumbledore." Mr. Granger stated, more to Mrs. Weasley than anyone. "The kid screams at all of us for no legit reason, and you choose to defend _Dumbledore_. Are you completely mad?"

"My sanity is not of your concern." Mrs. Weasley replied coldly. "I wouldn't expect a man like you to understand."

"Wouldn't. . .? _A man like me? _What's that supposed to mean?" he boomed. "All I've done is attempt to solve an extremely important matter with my daughter, and I've been reprimanded for it by some. . . some. . . little. . .-"

"- friend that's more concerned about her welfare than you are? Yes, I'd say so."

"Well, I see where your son gets his blatant disrespect for others."

She looked at him darkly. "I've always treated your daughter as one of my own, and I expect the same for my son."

Mr. Weasley put his hand on his wife's arm. "Molly, stop this. This is pointless."

"No, I won't." she said, waving his hand off of her.

"No, Arthur, she's right." Mrs. Granger said softly.

"She's _right_?" her husband questioned. "She's _right!_ Alright, fine then, Arianna, you tell me why she's right."

She sighed. "She's defending Dumbledore because. . . because. . ." she swallowed hard. "Because he was the only one who didn't deserve that. He valued that boy's opinion whole-heartedly, because he knew he was right."

"So I deserved to be yelled at like that by a child?"

"Yes, you did!" she replied sharply, her voice cracking. "We all did! And this isn't about you!" she sniffed. "Michael, she's our _baby_. How could you. . ." she stopped, breathing heavily as tears streamed down her face. Her hands covered her eyes as her shoulders shook, and she only found strength enough to whisper. "Get out." He looked at her curiously. "Get out!" she yelled, and he sighed as he got up, slamming the door behind him. Arthur looked to his wife, departing from the room quietly, leaving them alone to talk. Mrs. Weasley rose from her spot, sitting beside Arianna as she whispered weakly. "I can't stand him. I can't. . ."

"Shhhh. . . It's alright, Arianna, dear." She cooed, taking her hands from her face.

"What did I do wrong, Molly? What, in God's name, did I do?"

She nodded. "Oh, I know, dearie. . . I can't even. . ." she paused. "I don't understand how this could've happened."

Silence.

"I knew when she found out she was a witch. . ." Mrs. Granger started softly. "I knew things would be different. . . but. . . Even witches and wizards, it can't be normal to. . . at this age. . ." she stated pleadingly, secretly hoping that it was true, just so she'd have some sort of explination other than her inabilities as a mother.

Mrs. Weasley shook her head. "No, of course it isn't. It's actually. . ." she paused, swallowing hard to keep herself from crying. "The penalties are worse for a witch and a wizard."

Arianna blinked. "Penalties?"

Molly shivered. "For an unmarried couple. . . having a child isn't legal. The father of the child, he. . ." she bit her lip. "He's thrown into Azkaban."

Arianna's bright, wet eyes widened. "Azkaban?"

"The wizarding world's prison. But it's far worse than a normal prison. None ever survive; the guards are horrendous creatures that suck your soul from you."

Mrs. Granger was speechless as she watched Molly's eyes water, watching her mind put her own, youngest son in that position. "Why?" she breathed, taking Molly's hand comfortingly.

She swallowed hard, her voice becoming higher pitched with every word. "It was a population law put in place hundreds of years ago. We were too numerous; muggles were spotting us everywhere, witches being hanged, wizards killed. . . We call it _The Massacre_, I don't know what Muggles call it. . . the _trials_, I think is what Arthur said. . ."

"The Witch Trials; of course." Arianna confirmed passively, almost mesmorized by pure shock.

"The law was put in place so . . . the father would die in Azkaban, so the child would replace it's father in the population. It's how they control our numbers."

Arianna's breath left her. "That's _horrible_." she breathed. Molly nodded fiercely, crying hysterically. "Are they really going to . . .? To Ron?" she asked, praying she wouldn't hear the answer she knew was coming.

"Of course they will." Mrs. Weasley spat, disgusted with the idea whole-heartedly. "He hasn't denied that it's his child even once, hasn't even questioned it. And those _disgusting_ council members, they'll. . ."

Arianna blinked. "Not even once?" Molly shook her head. "Oh my God." She bit her lip. "And he's doing that. . . for Hermione?" She was so shocked, she barely knew how to react.

"Hermione. . . she means so much. . . to Ron, to the whole lot of them . . ." She paused. "Arianna, dear, I hope you know. . . this isn't like him; hewouldn't have. . . if he knew. . ."

"No!" Arianna said, stopping her. "I could never blame your son for any of this. Never." she swallowed. "I trust your son with my daughter."

Mrs. Weasley smiled, and Arianna managed a weak smile that came out as a painful grimace. "Thank you." Molly whispered, hugging her as she sobbed, and Arianna went right on crying with her; just two, confused, scared mothers, learning to be strong for their babies.

* * *

AN: phew. That took a while. :P well, i've been working NON STOP the past 3 days, trying to finish this up – originally, there was one more part to this chapter, but its just too long already – it actually fits better as the beginning to the next part. Just because I cut you short of that, ill tell you what happens (kinda): Fred makes a very important promise to Ron that will be present from then on in the rest of this fic. Try and figure it out:P betcha caaan'ttt… 

Lol, well anyways, before I go, I just wanna say another thank you to Akalea, and I apologize to high heavens if I spelled that wrong. checks nope, I think that's right. But anyways, I was writing this the other day, feeling so stressed about getting it done in time, and your review just helped me slow down immensely and absolutely put a smile on my face. Everyone's reviews in general, the fact that people _care_ what I write; it just absolutely gets to me. I love you guys, really, all of you. Thank you so much for putting up with me.

Forever and always,

Suki

ps - review, please:P

_formatting updated July 26, 2006_


	8. Silence

Thanks, Mate

_chapter eight; Silence_

* * *

AN: hola compadres. . . well, here's the next chapter! Enjoy! 

Disclaimer: wow, it's been a while since I remembered to put one of these :P anyways, whenever JK Rowling decides to put Fred up for auction on Ebay, I'll be there. Until then, they're all hers.

* * *

"Drink it, Honey, _please_. It'll make you feel better." 

"Really, Mum, it's alright."

"Hermione. . ."

"I'm fine."

"Damnit, Hermione." Ron growled from the other side of the door, more to himself than anyone. "Just drink it."

"And what would you call this, perchance?" drawled Mr. Granger's diplomatic voice behind him. Ron groaned. "Eavesdropping, perhaps?" he grinned as he watch the annoyance and utter dread grow in Ron's face.

"No, sir. If you wouldn't mind, could you be quiet for a moment?" he said, using every muscle in his body to be polite, to which Granger's face turned red hot.

"And what if I do mind you _eavesdropping_?" he stressed.

"Well, that's fine. When I'm eavesdropping, let me know." he said through gritted teeth. He was making the whole "quiet observer" thing slightly difficult.

With that one cross remark, Ron felt himself being lifted from his collar and slammed against the wall, held in his spot about a foot more off the ground than any Weasley ever should be, lest they crack their head on the ceiling, so his eyes met coldly with his attacker's fury.

"Listen here, boy. If I ever, _ever_, catch you anywhere near my daughter from this point on, I'll hang you myself." he growled.

"Whoa, now, that's not very nice." Ron replied sarcastically, his annoyance fueling his courage, or possibly his audacity; whatever you choose to call it. "Hanging's a bit of a touchy subject with wizards. . . what with you lot getting a little power-happy in the 1400's. . . the Witch Trials, I believe; that's what you call it, right?"

"_Don't_ be smart with me, boy!" he yelled, punching him square in the jaw before letting him slide to the floor, blood tricking from the corner of his mouth.

He moved his jaw around painfully as blood came thicker and thicker and numbness set in. "What the fuck what that for?" he yelled back, half glare in his eyes and half fear.

His question was answered with a series of painful kicks to his side; one for each syllable out of Granger's mouth. "I-said-don't-be-"

"Get _off _of him!" came an all too familiar voice, and once Ron had noticed the kicking had stopped, he looked up to see the most violent Fred he'd ever seen. He couldn't see his brother's face as the battle ensued, which he was quite grateful for, knowing it must have been a horror to see with the sentences flowing out of his mouth as blood started flowing. ". . . swear, if you _ever _touch my brother again, I'll fucking blow your brains out!"

"Fred!" George yelled, running up the stairs and immediately grabbing hold of him. "Stop it, mate! Right now! What the hell. . .?"

But Ron didn't catch the end of his sentence. A piercing scream caught his unyeilding attention, and he turned his head in what seemed like slow motion as he saw the horror spread across Mrs. Granger's face from behind the half open door. She breathed deeply, petrified in place, before running to them, pulling them apart as their fists fell in her presence. "Stop it! Stop it, all of you!" she forced, trying to hold her composure as confusion and fear set in.

"Ron?" Hermione whispered in fear, and he instantly jumped up, pushing her back into the room.

"Don't." he warned.

"What happened?"

"Just go lie down, Mione."

"Ron. . ."

"Just go." he said, and his fear for her met her eyes before she agreed, allowing him to close the door and lean against it in a daze. Lights blurred around him, voices lost comprehension, thoughts paused so abruptly that his head numbed. _What just happened?_

". . .in there, now." He blinked, Fred's outline becoming more defined. "Go on, get in there." he muttered again, directing Ron towards an empty room at the end of the hallway. He shot a quick glance around the hall before following orders, Fred trailing close behind him.

No sooner than Fred had shut the door did the screaming start. "Why didn't you hit him? What's wrong with you?"

Ron cringed. "Turn the light on, Fred."

"Merlin! I know you're all for love and peace, Ron, but _defend yourself, _man!"

"The light, mate."

Fred hit the wall with his wand so hard that it nearly snapped, and the room illuminated with a burst of light. He panted slightly, sitting down on the opposite bed where Ron sat. Ron stared at him blankly, following the random bursts of blood on his clothes to see what damage had been done. "You alright, mate?"

"I'm fine." He forced as he grabbed his left arm in pain, signifying they had other matters to discuss. He breathed in deeply. "So it happened."

"_What_ happened?"

"Don't be stupid. You know what." Ron didn't say a word. Fred sighed, frustrated. "_Your Girlfriend is pregnant_, Ron; this isn't the time to get all proud on me."

"Look, Fred, I just. . ." he paused. "I just don't think I need to explain myself to you." He paused. "What're you doing here, anyways?" he added as a second thought.

"Well look at the balls on you." he muttered, completely ignoring Ron's last sentence. "So _now_ you defend yourself."

"Fred, you got a problem? Cause I'd sure love to know what it is."

"Problem? _Problem?_" Fred blurted, exasperated. "Yeah, Ron, I got a problem; I find out about my brother and his girlfriend, who's like my _sister_ at this point, are having a little fun. Alright, fine. Wanna be that way, go right ahead. Of course, I can't tell anyone, cause then it'll get all blown up out of proportion and my brother will come after me with a blooming sledgehammer before he considers himself avenged. And _then_," he paused, biting his lip as he inhaled heavily. "I find out about _this_. And its like the biggest fricken 'I told you so' I hoped I'd never have to say. Ever. So you wanna know what my fricken problem is, Ron? _You really wanna know? _I could've stopped this! I could've told mum, or talked to Hermione, or _something_, but I didn't. Because brothers don't do that." He paused as his voice choked, gulping hard to erase any tears that thought of appearing. "I didn't even tell _George_, Ron. _My own twin. _I've never kept anything from him in my entire life. _Anything._ Do you have any idea how much pressure that put on my shoulders? Have you the faintest idea? To not be able to completely blow up in front of the one person you know won't mind. And_ shite_, did I want to blow up. Just scream it out; 'Ron and Hermi-. . .'"

The creaking of the door stopped him mid-sentence and George stepped in, acting completely oblivious, covered in blood that he didn't know was his own, or Fred's, or Hermione's father; maybe a combination of all three. He sat down quietly beside Fred, not able to meet Ron's eyes even once. Silence filled the room as they sat there, more uncomfortable with each other than they'd ever been. The only sound heard was Fred as he tried to maintain a steady breathing rate and the commotion in the hall from the recent event. George said something inaudible to Fred, who sniffed in reply.

Ron swallowed hard, his permanently wet eyes gleaming. "I uh. . ." Fred looked up. George listened from his current position. Ron bit his lip, continuing softly. "I. . . I didn't really think. . . I mean, I didn't think it'd happen. . . I didn't know it _could_. . ." he paused, sniffing. "It only happened once. I swear to God, Fred, it only happened once."

"Once is all it takes." Fred mustered, seeming completely stunned that he'd actually said it.

"Shut up, mate." George managed, waiting for Ron to continue, trying to seem patient.

"I never meant for it to be this way. Do you really think I would?" he asked, more to the air than anyone. "I mean, eventually, yeah, but not _now._ After we graduated, after we got married. . ." he paused. "She's. . .she's gonna get sick. Really sick. I know she is. And it's all my fault." His voice faded completely as the crying came, but it wasn't like the small bouts of tears he'd been experiencing daily. Oh, no. He _cried_; he bawled so hysterically that he couldn't have possibly had enough energy to hold himself up. He howled like a child, shaking so much that someone outside the situation would have thought him mad.

George sighed, closing his eyes for a moment, and when he was confident his composure wouldn't crack, he looked up at his little brother across from him. "Come're, tike." He said, moving so there was room for Ron between him and Fred. However, Ron, doubting anyone truly felt sympathy for him at this point, stayed in place, possibly sobbing even harder than before. Yet, despite the shun, George got up, sitting beside Ron, placing a gentile arm around his little brother, letting him eventually trust him enough again to cry into his shoulder. "It's alright, mate. Let it all out."

". . . I'm sorry." he whispered finally.

"For what?"

"Everything."

George looked at Fred accusingly as Ron continued to sob, and he buried his face in his hands, completely unwilling to hear it. However, George, not knowing the full magnitude of the situation (and not altogether caring), kicked his twin in the shin, silently ordering him to set things straight.

Fred spent a moment in silent contemplation before getting up and occupying Ron's other side. "Take that back." he whispered shakily.

". . .What?"

"Your apology." he said. "Take it back." Ron looked up into his brother's red, wet eyes through his own blur of tears, waiting for an explanation. "There's nothing for you to be sorry for."

"But. . ."

"But nothing." he persisted. "Ron, if there's anyone who should be sorry, . . . it's me. I just put extra stress on you that you don't deserve. You're not doing anything wrong, and I'm still punishing you." He teared, his eyes releasing silent streams down his cheeks. "I just. . . I care about you guys, that's all. I mean, I'm worried. . . I'm worried that. . . you'll go to Azkaban, and Hermione will be left all alone. . . and something'll happen to her while you're in there. . . or something'll happen to _you_ while you're in there. . . I just. . . I don't want it to happen." Ron sniffed, nodding softly.

Fred smiled weakly. "It's why. . . I've made a decision." George and Ron both seemed taken aback for a moment; not that it was strange or anything, but Fred had never made a decision outside of his little unit with George. "It's alright if George doesn't agree with me; it's time I take some responsibility on my own. And I want this."

"What's that, mate?" George asked.

". . .I, uh. . . I'm gonna talk to Dumbledore; ask him if. . . if they have room for me to stay at Hogwarts. That way, until they. . ." Fred swallowed hard. "Until they. . . release you, I can help Hermione out a little."

Ron stared at him blankly. "Fred. . ."

"She means a lot to me, Ron; to all of us. She's like my sister. I couldn't just leave her alone like that. And I know. . . no matter how much I might love her, or George might love her. . ." He shook his head, looking at Ron painfully. "It's not even. . . half of what you feel for her." He paused. "It's not fair that they'd take you away from her, especially now. . . but at least she won't be completely alone."

Complete. . . utter. . . silence.

"You would really do that. . . for me?" Ron croaked.

Fred smiled slightly. "You're my brother, Ron. Brothers look out for each other, yeah?"

Before Fred even knew what hit him, Ron had him in the single most tight hug he'd ever had in his life (including his yearly hugs from Aunt Tessie), determined not to let him go, no matter how uncomfortable it made him. "Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you. . ." he repeated, until his voice was so completely consumed by his emotions all at once.

Fred loosened his arm enough to pat him on the back. "Don't mention it. I wouldn't have left her alone; you know that."

"Hey, what's with all this 'I' all of a sudden?" George accused brightly. "You know I'm coming with you, yeah?"

Fred blinked. "Are you, now?"

"Well, let's face it; we're not all that good on our own, are we?" he joked, however pathetically true it was. "Besides; two Weasleys are better than one." Fred high-fived his twin to signify his agreement, and Ron managed something he hadn't been able to do in so long that he'd nearly forgotten how; a smile.

* * *

"Ron, dear? Could I have a word?" Mrs. Granger asked, tapping him on the shoulder just before he walked through the front doorway. He stopped, taken aback for a moment at her nickname. "Oh. Um, sure." He said, exchanging a funny look with Hermione, Harry and Ginny before walking off to the side with her.

"He started it, didn't he?"

Ron blinked at the abrupt start of conversation. "Who. . .?"

"Michael. He hit you first."

"I didn't hit him, Ma'am, I promise I didn't." he hastened. "I wouldn't ever. . ."

"It's alright, Ron. You can tell me." she said softly.

He swallowed. "Really?" she nodded patiently. He shifted his feet uncomfortably and scratched the back of his neck. "He, um. . . actually. . ." he paused. "Yeah, he kinda started it. . ."

"I knew it." she whispered lowly.

"But it wasn't his fault! I provoked him, listening in on you and all. . ." he explained, though he didn't believe it true in the least.

"That doesn't make it right, does it?" She swallowed hard. "Michael. . . he um. . ." she paused, as if considering whether or not he could be trusted. "Lately he's been. . . short-tempered. . . he picks fights all the time, and he lashes out when he gets upset. . . and. . ." Ron looked at her strangely, wondering why exactly she was telling him this. "Dumbledore mentioned that. . . Hermione might be happier at home rather than the hospital wing at Hogwarts, and I couldn't say no, not in front of Michael. . ." Ron nodded. "It's so horrible I have to tell you this. . . he's a good person, Ron, he is. . . and he's a good father. I love him." She paused. "I want Hermione home, I really do. Especially now, because of this, and you won't be there. . . but I. . . I can't trust him around her. I don't want anything to happen to her."

"I understand." he said, trying not to let his shock show in his face. How could Michael ever want to. . .? Why would he do that to Hermione?

"This is really hard for me. . . " she whispered solemnly. "But I have to protect her. . . So, that said. . . I was wondering if maybe you could have a word with Dumbledore; convince him she'd be better off at Hogwarts."

Ron thought a moment. "I, uh. . ." he started. "Don't get me wrong, I would in a heartbeat. . . but I really don't think Dumbledore would take my opinion over yours, now that you already agreed. . ." she nodded softly, looking down at her hands, and he forced a bitter chuckle. "Besides. . . I'm guessing I don't have the best reputation at the moment."

She smiled for what seemed a split second. "That's not funny." she said strangely.

He nodded slowly in agreement. "Yeah. I didn't think so either."

Silence.

"I want her safe. I want it more than anything; _believe me,_ I do. I'll try, I promise. But if he doesn't listen. . . will you talk to Dumbledore yourself?"

She nodded softly. "Yes. Of course."

"I hate to disturb you both," Dumbledore chimed as he appeared out of nowhere, and Ron's eyes bulged out momentarily. Mrs. Granger didn't budge. "But that won't be necessary." he said reassuringly.

Mrs. Granger sighed in relief. "Oh, thank God." she whispered shakily.

"Your opinions of me surprise me a bit." he jokedto their great surprise. "You should know by now, Mr. Weasley, that I respect my students very deeply. No amount of mistakes can ever change that. We're all more or less human, after all."

Ron smiled weakly, completely startled. "Oh, um. . . of course, sir. Thank you." Dumbledore managed a wink in his direction, and Ron dropped his head in deep thought.

"As for you, Mrs. Granger," he said, turning slightly and dropping his voice's volume considerably. "Your daughter is always welcome at Hogwarts, despite all circumstances. I shall see to her comfort."

She trembled softly, withholding her tears. "Thank you. Thank you so, so much. . ."

"And, Mr. Weasley, I'm sure your brothers have informed you of their plan?" He nodded. "Fred and George Weasley." he explained to Mrs. Granger. "Quite spirited boys. I believe you met them earlier?" Mrs. Granger nodded, and Ron attempted to stifle a laugh. Not that their meeting had been _amusing, _but it was certainly awkward, if nothing else."They've volunteered to come back to Hogwarts for a period of time to see that Miss Granger is kept well and happy. They're sure to do so; they have quite a knack for making people laugh. You should have seen this one stunt they pulled not too long ago, right before they left the school. . . I didn't experience it personally, however, the other teacher's accounts are quite . . ."

"Let's not relive that, Professor." Ron joked shyly.

Dumbledore laughed to himself. "I suppose we shouldn't. You, of course, wouldn't mind that, would you, Mrs. Granger?"

She smiled sweetly, to Ron's great surprise, and her eyes watered gratefully. "Wow. . . um. . ." She paused, sniffing as she squeezed Ron's hand. "I see Hermione's well taken care of, isn't she?" She giggled.

"I can discuss matters with you further at a later date, Arianna." Dumbledore said, smiling with a wink before leaving.

"I've heard so much. . . from Hermione. . .about you, Ron. . . how you take care of her. . ." She smiled. "But. . . I never imagined she was this exact. . . I thought she was exaggerating a bit, to be honest." Ron snickered, and his eyes widened when he'd realized he'd done it. She laughed. "No, it's alright. I deserved that." She bent down to his height (which wasn't much, given Ron's inevitable Weasley genes) "If you ever need anything. . . Anything at all. . . don't hesitate to let me know. Ever."

Ron nodded. "Thanks, Ma'am."

"Oh, come now. We're family now." she joked. "Arianna." she said, and Ron nodded, smiling slightly.

"Thanks, _Arianna_." he repeated, and she hugged him close. He paused a moment before hugging her back, trying not to notice her slight body movements that signified her wanting to cry.

"Hey, Ron!" Harry called from the doorway, startling them both. "We're leaving without you!"

They let go of each other with a laugh. "I should get going, too." she said, smiling as she left to retrieve her purse and her husband.

"In case you're too daft to catch that. . ." Ginny started angrily, and Molly Weasley seemed to appear out of nowhere to scold her.

"Ginerva Weasley, you apologize to your brother right now!"

"Ginerva!" Harry repeated, jumping back from her with wide, shocked eyes.

"Drop it!" she forced through gritted teeth, jabbing her elbow into his rib.

"Ronald, let's go! Don't keep them waiting!" Ron sighed as he made his way to the door. _Same as ever_ he thought to himself. . . and _God_, was he happy for that. He hugged his mother briefly before walking out the front door and following the succession that lead as follows; Dumbledore and McGonagall, looking as nobly cheerful as ever; Harry and Ginny, discussing the different blackmails and consequences thereof that could happen with the use of Ginny's full name; Hermione and Ron, trailing behind in a manner that could only be described as completely sober.

"What was that?" Hermione whispered.

Ron looked at her skeptically. "What?"

"My mother. What did she want?"

"Oh, nothing. . ." he said, brushing it off cheerfully. "Just, um. . ." He shrugged. "Ya know. . . welcoming me into the family. . ."

Hermione paused. "She did _what_?" she asked, completely astonished.

He smiled. "She um. . . I think she. . .approves of me."

Her whole face lit up, and she shoved him. "She does _not!_" she said, practically hopping.

Ron up-righted himself, coughing for a moment. "Merlin. . . watch where you're swinging those hormones, I'm not that strong to begin with."

She snorted. "Shut up, you." He laughed. She looked at him suspiciously. "What's got you so happy, all of a sudden?"

"I'm just. . . in such a great mood." he said, his signature smile stretching ear to ear as he hooked his arm around her. "I'm on Fred's good side again, I'm _still _on Dumbledore's good side, I've got one of two Grangers rooting for me. . ."

"_Two of three_, mind you." she joked.

"You know what I mean!" he said, practically laughing. He paused. "Besides. . . in a year or two. . . well, you might be a Weasley by then. . ."

She paused, grinning mischievously. "Maybe."

He blushed madly at her response, meeting her eyes and they completely stopped walking. "I love you." he whispered, as if he'd never believed it more true.

She smiled. "I love you." And their lips touched softly before they resumed walking, practically giggling to themselves like giddy little children.

"By the way. . . Guess who's moving in at Hogwarts while I'm gone?"

"Oh, _please_; not the twins. . ."

"None other!"

Sigh. "God, I hope Pomfrey keeps me on good tranquilizers."

Distant laughter.

The slight sound of Apparations.

Complete. . . utter. . . silence.

* * *

Hey guys! Wow, I can't believe its really been four months since I've updated. . . well, keep the reviews coming, and maybe it won't take me as long :P although, I'm getting better; this chapter only took 2 days to write. All the rest of that four months was procrastination :P well anyways, please review! 

Love always,

Suki

_formatting updated July 26, 2006_


	9. Sorry

Thanks, Mate

_chapter nine; Sorry_

* * *

Disclaimer: I only wish that Fred could be mine. THAT'S ALL I ASK! -dies- too bad.

* * *

"_As it is, it is a requirement of the council that each student be perfectly capable of casting this spell, should the need for self-defense arise. Teaching such a dark craft is not something I am altogether proud of, but it must be done for protection's sake. So, then, we will be performing the first half of the spell, and only the first half. Should I catch any one of you in the process of carrying out the spell revealed to you by this charm on your classmate, I shall have you on strict probation in every aspect of your life at Hogwarts until your graduation. Do I make myself clear?"_

She said it. He knew she said it; he remembered hearing it as he was drawing the third boob on his little portrait of Harry. She was one for her word, as far as he could tell; no one that emotionally disturbed would say that without meaning it completely.

_So why the hell did he do it?_

"Mister Malfoy, pay attention!" Professor Mcgonall shrieked as she slammed some random unidentified object on her desk, causing him to jump. Merlin, he'd never seen her so tested. "You are on _thin ice,_ young man, so I suggest you listen when your superiors speak to you!"

He yawned subtly, no longer all that phased by her words as he propped his head up against his fist, looking at her with only a look of complete annoyance (and a slight grimace of pain that had become so frequently seen on his face that it was no longer noticeable.). Only when he shifted slightly to accommodate for the tenderness in his cheek, moving his fist up towards his temple, did the silence cease.

"Now, then, as I was saying. . ." Madame Pomfrey said tentatively, looking around at McGonagall, Snape, and Trelawney to confirm she was indeed allowed to continue. "While Draco's healing nicely, he's still got a bit of time before he loses the sensitivity; he's still got multiple bruises that haven't quite healed. I don't think it wise to release him from the hospital wing just yet."

"There are potions for that; there's no need to keep him any longer."

"Yes, Severus, but I'm afraid the best way for them to heal is to let nature take its course. He just needs a bit of time, that's all."

"And just how much time do you think we have to waste, Madame Pomfrey?"

"And we still haven't even _approached_ the task of assigning his punishment!"

"Honestly, Sybil; one might think you would enjoy seeing him suffer."

"Suffering is outshined in the face of _justice_, Minerva!"

"I don't suppose _my_ opinion might matter?" Malfoy piped up tiredly, and the women seemed to fume over his audacity. Snape, however, as the boy's single biggest fan, as it seemed, motioned for him to continue. "I don't know what Madame Pomfrey here's talking about, because I feel fine. As if any damage done by Lavender Brown could possibly keep anyone in a hospital bed for more than a few hours."

"Extraordinary situations cause people to do extraordinary things, Mister Malfoy. She could have cracked your skull if she so desired." Trelawney murmured darkly.

Silence consumed the room, and Malfoy's face flickered into a humbled expression for what seemed a millisecond before he snapped back in character, snorting at her confidence. "It would have been worth the crack just to see her try." he said, his tone still not having made the transition to its comfortable arrogant pitch.

"That, I believe, is precisely the curious attitude that landed you here in the first place, Mister Malfoy. Maybe you'll lose it while undergoing punishment; it would be in your best interest." McGonagall said curtly, turning to Madame Pomfrey. "Poppy, I've heard there's a shortage of help in the hospital wing as of late?"

"Oh, yes; you just can't find much help these days. . . Most are too squeamish to be bothered with it. But, oh, what rewarding work. . ." She paused, relaying the same question that was running through everyone's mind. "Just what are you suggesting, Minerva?"

"As you are forbidding Mister Malfoy to leave the hospital wing and Sybil is. . ." She paused, choosing her words carefully. ". . . _anxious_ to make sure he is disciplined properly, I suggest he serve his sentence in the hospital wing as a volunteer for all hours excluding classes. He may work in the hospital wing all day today, but staring tomorrow, he will need to return to classes."

"What?" Malfoy burst, staring at her with such an intense malice in his eyes. "You can't possibly think. . . You don't approve of this, do you, Professor?" he said, looking to Snape whose expression lay completely unchanged.

"The boy is right, Professor McGonagall; it's a bit harsh, would you not agree?"

"Three of my students, Severus. . ." she said heavily, adjusting her glasses as she got a firm grasp on her composure. ". . . Are suffering for this boy's actions, which he rightfully knew were forbidden. _Three students_, Severus; I haven't even included those who are suffering severe emotional stress." She stopped, staring Malfoy in the eyes with quiet intensity. "I don't believe it harsh in the least."

"My father - . . ."

"Your father has no authority here, Mister Malfoy, nor does his money." she said coldly. "Severus, as his house head, you reserve every right to assign him to other punishment, however, I beg you do not allow favoritism to shadow the magnitude of his actions."

Uncomfortable silence followed as Malfoy sat in silent fury, staring at Snape's still unchanged face. "Punishment has been issued. There is no need for prohibition on my behalf."

Malfoy's eyes bulged, more from utter shock than anger. He just sat there blankly, processing the memory to be sure he hadn't imagined it. How could Snape do this to him? Of all people!

"You may go, Mister Malfoy." Professor McGonagall stated, and Madame Pomfrey rose to accompany him downstairs.

"Come along, dearie." she said, waiting for him to stand. But he didn't. He just stared. "Draco?" she tested, and he jumped as he fell back into consciousness, standing and walking out of the room as rudely as he could manage.

"They're ready for you, dearie; just go on in." Madame Pomfrey said gently, and Malfoy raised his eyes to see who she was speaking to; Hermione, looking as pale as she had for weeks, seeming a bit uncomfortable as she faked a smile and a thank you. He watched her as she stood slowly, leaning against the frame of the door as she knocked lightly.

"_Three of my students, Severus, are suffering for this boy's actions, which he rightfully knew were forbidden. Three students, Severus; I haven't even included those who are suffering severe emotional stress."_

_. . . So why the hell did he do it?_

* * *

"Miss Granger?" Snape greeted as the door opened, and he offered his hand curiously. She paused for a moment, taken aback as she accepted, using him for support as he walked her to the chair Malfoy had occupied only a moment before. She shifted slightly, and even before she was given the time to murmur a word of thanks, he turned to Trelawney and McGonagall as he spoke. "So then, I suppose Sybil and I will speak with you later?" he said, waiting until Trelawney had made her way to the door before leaving, closing the door behind them. 

"I don't suppose you might know where your classmates are?" McGonagall asked, standing to take her rightful seat behind her desk.

"Lavender and Ron? They're in detention now."

"Ah, yes. . . for. . ."

"For hitting Draco, yes." she finished bluntly, not sure she could handle hearing one of McGonagall's clever word tricks.

"As it were." she confirmed, a bit rattled at Hermione's bluntness. "I would have preferred at least Ron be present here, but seeing as they are elsewhere at the moment. . ." She paused, looking at Hermione's curious expression. "The Ministry, of course, has been notified of this, and they've already issued the date that the warrant for Ron's detainment will take effect."

The breath caught in Hermione's throat, and she bit her lip. "I see." she murmured.

McGonagall continued, only the slightest degree of sympathy weighing her usual tone as she shifted her glasses, skimming the document in her hand. "It's in about two weeks; the Ministry allows the father to stay with the mother for the first four months of the pregnancy before he is sent to Azkaban, where he will stay, of course, until the child is born and the trial takes place. You're not familiar with the events that take place, I take it?" She managed a head shake. "The trial is more or less of a formality; it is by no means fair and has always resulted in immediate execution of the young man upon completion."

Hermione grasped her hands together, and she felt her chest heaving before she comprehended why. Her vision blurred slightly as tears welled in her eyes. "Ron. . . does he know that?"

"The fact that he is still as confident as he is tells me he doesn't." she responded, adjusting her glasses once again to look at Hermione, who was looking at nothing but her hands. "He _will_ die, Hermione; regardless of what fantasies you both had of him escaping it somehow, it is utterly impossible. Thinking otherwise is completely hopeless."

"Is that all you brought me here to tell me, Professor?" she said, ruder than she'd ever spoken to McGonagall in all her life.

"No, I suppose not." she replied, speaking with a gentler tone than before. "It pains me to say it, but you have to consider what you are doing to him."

Hermione paused. ". . .What?"

"You're both so _young_, Miss Granger; do you really expect things to be fine? You're not in _love, _Miss Granger; you're still a baby. You can't make a commitment to him, and he can't for you, either; you don't know what it _means. _I realize you're trying so hard to fix this, but honestly. . ." she paused. "This has to stop."

"What does?"

"All of this! You can't. . ." She paused, breathing in deeply; rarely was she at such a loss for words. "Are you really ready to let him die? Can you carry that on your shoulders for the rest of your life? Letting him die for a child that came too early for him to handle it, for _you _to handle it? I don't care what silly notions of bravery or nobility you have in your mind, Miss Granger, but I beg you; this boy's _life_ is in your hands. _His very life_."

"That's not. . . it's not. . . I swear it's not. . ." she cried, tears streaming down her cheeks. "It's not _like _that, Professor, I promise. . ."

McGonagall sighed. "All the ministry cares about is the population. They only want him so the population will balance; but if there's no baby, they'll let him live."

Such a silence that took over that Hermione could barely breathe. Colors swirled around her eyes as she panted, yet she barely realized she was doing it. Then, all thought, all movement, all rational human behavior, it all stopped in the wake of one, single question. "A. . . Are you suggesting. . . abortion?"

* * *

"At least stop moving for _one bloody second_!" Malfoy muttered, and only then did Hermione look up, hearing him speak for the first time.

"Hm?" she questioned shakily, though her attention span only gave way for that one response before her complete daze took over, shivering and tears and all.

"Here." he said, fixing her bed tray before setting her lunch on top of it.

"Oh." she murmured, barely coherent enough to recognize what it was or to say anything more.

Not really waiting for a thank you in the first place, Malfoy took off to the corner of the room, continuing on with the million chores that had all of a sudden become his. What happened to 'hasn't quite healed'? 'Still a bit sensitive'? 'Isn't well enough to leave the hospital wing'? How about 'the house elves have a purpose, here at Hogwarts'? Yeah, he thought so. They didn't want to 'punish him for his wrongdoings'; hells no. They wanted a maid.

She barely noticed Malfoy causing such a racket on the other side of the room; how could she? Every word, every look, every tear still shook her from the inside with intensity, suffocating her, driving her mad. She shivered, finally recognizing the tray in front of her as food, and reached out a hand to grasp the glass of water that stood there.

"_The trial is more or less of a formality; it is by no means fair and has always resulted in immediate execution of the young man upon completion."_

_He's going to die. . . isn't he?_

She grasped the glass, raising it as if it were the heaviest thing she'd ever lifted, trying to bring it closer to her and failing dismally.

"_I don't care what silly notions of bravery or nobility you have in your mind, Miss Granger, but I beg you; this boy's life is in your hands. His very life."_

_My hands? What. . . _

She tried to pull it closer, but it seemed as if her arm completely stopped responding. She gaped at it, concentrating so hard just to bring it to her lips. The water stared back at her, teasing her, mocking her sense of thirst so unforgivingly. . .

"_But if there's no baby, they'll let him live."_

_Let him live. . ._

_No baby. . ._

_No. . ._

She heard a high pitched scream echoing throughout the room, and she winced, unable to take the sound. She didn't even notice it was her who had been screaming until she felt a hand on her mouth, felt herself stop abruptly as a reflex. "_Don't_ do that." her companion said, and she felt him moving the bed tray away before wiping up the spillage with a towel. "You'll scare the hell out of people." Only then did her eyes focus, watching Malfoy as he tried to pry her blanket away from her hand grasped around it so tightly that her knuckles were white. She stopped, slightly shocked by the sudden appearance of another person.

"What, you want to keep the wet one? So you spilled your drink all over yourself on _purpose_? Merlin, they _did _want a maid. Come on, now; I'll get another one." he prodded impatiently, and she finally let go of it.

She swallowed down hard, taking her wand from inside her robes and pointing it at her sleeve. "_Sis-Sic-_" She stopped mid-spell, trying hard to stop herself from shaking long enough to say it properly. "_Sicciusescs. . ."_

"_Siccus." _Malfoy said simply as he tapped his own wand against her shoulder, drying her clothes instantly. "It's not _that_ hard." he said in a strangely gentler tone than usual, however, his arrogance still shown brightly through the way he unfolded the new blanket that accompanied him, whipping it carelessly through the air rather than taking the time to smooth it out properly. He was amazed to see her snatch it from him, shivering as she covered herself, seeming to sigh with relief when she found herself under a blanket once more. He stood there for a second, just staring at her as if having something to say, yet he hadn't quite found the proper words yet. ". . .What's wrong with you?" She looked at him as if that was all she had had to do in reply. "Are you okay?" he rephrased, feeling a bit guilty for the attitude.

"I. . ." She paused.

One minute passed. Two. Three.

"I. . . Ron." she said, as if Malfoy understood it completely as a sentence. Not taking the time to recognize whether he did or not, she threw the blanket off of her, jumping out of her bed so abruptly that she slipped, only narrowly catching the bedpost for support.

Malfoy snapped to attention, running around to the other side and grabbing her hands to support her back to the bed. "What the hell are you doing? Are you _mad_? Lie down!"

"Ron. . . I need to talk to him. . ."

"It's only fifth period; he's still in classes for another 3 hours."

"No, now. . . now. . ."

"Not now; lie down."

"Now. . ."

"Granger, look at me." She shook her head furiously, starting to whimper, but Malfoy had become so accustomed to ignoring her feelings entirely, he barely cared. "Look at me!" She finally looked up just to stop him from yelling. "Look, Madame Pomfrey will _kick my ass bloody_ if you go any more than half a meter from that bed; _especially_ after this morning. So you'd better. . ."

"This morning?" she echoed, not altogether caring what else he had to say, or simply not noticing he had continued to speak.

He stopped. "This morning. . . ya know, when you _fainted_? Or am I just imagining things at this point?"

". . . fainted?"

"In the middle of your meeting with McGonagall. Hit the floor cold. What, you didn't notice waking up in bed when you hadn't fallen asleep there?"

Hermione stopped dead cold, stepping backwards uncertainly so she fell back onto her bed. Fainted? How do you faint and not realize it happened? . . .Did Malfoy make it up? Would he do that? It was true that she thought the meeting with McGonagall ended a bit. . . abruptly. . . and she didn't remember being dismissed, walking back downstairs. . . none of it.

". . . Oh my God. I fainted." she whispered, so low that no human could have possibly been able to comprehend it. She swallowed hard, holding her stomach almost painfully as she spoke. "I. . . I don't even know what's going on with me anymore."

"What? What are you talking about?"

"I . . . I just. . ." she stopped. "I really, _really_ need to see Ron. Right now." She whimpered weakly, getting up off her bed again and racing past Malfoy, who only caught up with her at the door, holding her tightly by the wrists.

"Look, Granger, I don't know what the hell you think you're doing. . ."

"Draco, _please_ . . . please, please. . ." she begged, her eyes tied shut as she tried to control her breathing. "She won't know I'm gone. . . just cover for me. . . _please_, Draco. . ."

"Cover. . .? Are you serious? What makes you think I'd ever do that for you?"

"Because you need me in that bed to make sure Pomfrey won't beat the shite out of you, don't you?"

Malfoy gritted his teeth. "Listen. . ."

"So? Will you?"

He stood there brooding, biting his tongue as he retrieved his wand, pointing it at her bed as he nearly spat a spell. "_Repleo Aeris_!" Just then, her bed sheets inflated into her exact form, making it look as if she were sound asleep in her own bed.

"Go." he said, walking back to his broom in the corner without even looking her in the eye.

"Tha-"

"Go!" he said, and he watched her leave before he picked up the broom and stroked it across the floor uselessly. He stopped, staring at nothing in particular, but certainly staring as he thought. What did he just do? Did. . . did he just let. . .?

"Merlin, Son of a Bitch. . ." he cursed wearily, enchanting his own bed to inflate as he ran out of the room, closing the door behind him.

* * *

"Please. . . _please_, hurry up. . ." she begged silently, watching the clock in the hallway tick ever so slowly as she leaned against the door of Snape's classroom. She could have sworn fifth period was supposed to end 20 minutes ago, but she wasn't about to barge into Snape's classroom proclaiming that. She sighed, closing her eyes, breathing steadily. "Calmly." She whispered to herself. "Keep it calm." Only, she hadn't been calm in all of three months; it was a little hard to start now. 

Just then, salvation hit her as the bell rang loudly, and she buckled to the floor in an emotion she couldn't even name. The door opened as people came flooding out, none of which seeming to notice her as the flow continued in the opposite direction; not even Ron, who was completely indulged in the practice of using any and every curse in his vocabulary to describe his anger about detention (and a rather messy potion mishap that had happened only minutes before) to Lavender, who seemed extremely tired of hearing it. . . or, just generally extremely tired.

"Oh my God, are you alright?" she felt two hands grabbing hers, trying to lift her off the ground, and looked up to find Harry. "What're you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be downstairs?" she sighed from the effort of standing, watching him as he yelled across the hall to flag Ron down, who came speeding back with Lavender in tow.

"No, Harry, I'm fine; I just wanted to talk to Ron, you don't have to. . ."

"You look really bad; you should go back downstairs."

"I'm fine, I promise. I just -"

"Oh my God, what happened?" Ron interrupted, panting from just having run against the flow of people from nearly a whole floor away to come back. He reached out his arm to drape around her shoulders, his signature gesture for all things comfort, and she shirked away slightly, leaving Lavender who already had her supported on herself as if she had broken a leg. Ron only stared, feeling entirely awkward.

"Come on, we'll get you back; it's okay, I promise." she said gently, starting to drag her friend as if not even noticing her talking.

"No, Lavender, I'm fine; I swear. I just came to talk to Ron, honest."

"Not looking that white, you didn't; back downstairs, now!"

"Lavender, it's ok; I got her." Ron protested, trying to cut her off from walking, but she just kept finding alternate routes.

"She's way sick, Ron; she should be in bed."

"No, seriously, I got her. Go up to class with Harry; I'll be there soon."

"Nope, she's going right wh-"

"Lavender!" he yelled frustratedly, and she stopped completely. He sighed, bowing his head apologetically. "Look. . . I got her, okay?"

Lavender looked at Harry, who motioned for her to come with him, then at Hermione, who only nodded. "Oh. . . alright." She said softly, untangling herself from Hermione before walking down the hall with Harry without saying another word. The hall was so completely empty, only resounding with the sound of Harry and Lavender's shoes against the metal dungeon staircase.

"Are you okay?" he asked, shoving his hands in his pockets to keep himself from touching her on reflex. "You don't look so good. . ."

"I'm . . . I'm fine." she stammered, covering her face as she exhaled slowly, then rubbed her arms as she spoke. "I just. . . really, really need to talk to you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. . . um. . ." She swallowed hard. "I just. . ." She paused, staring down at the ground as she finished. "Do. . . do you think we made a mistake?"

Silence.

"What do you mean, mistake?" he asked quietly.

She sighed, flustered. "_Please_, Ron, spare me the drama; I can't take it. Do you think we made a mistake?"

He exhaled slowly, shuffling his feet and watching as he did so, thinking softly. He looked up at her as he shook his head, a little startled by the question. "Truth?" he asked quietly.

She nodded. "Truth."

"Okay. . ." he said, processing what to say next. "Yeah." he said finally. "I do." She nodded solemnly, not looking as if she was planning on continuing the conversation. "But hey. . . I mean, it was a mistake. A big one. But we can't change it now, so. . ."

"You're leaving in two weeks." she stated. He stopped completely, staring at her, waiting for her to keep talking. "McGonagall told me this morning."

". . . Oh." he said, his face wrinkling in thought.

She wrung her hands, staring down at them as she did so, looking for anything she could possibly say to end the silence. It was too horrible to even deal with. "I fainted this morning, Ron." He gasped subtly, yet she kept talking. "I started. . . screaming, out of nowhere, and I had no idea I was doing it until Malfoy shut me up."

"Malfoy?" he asked.

"He's working in the hospital wing now; it's his punishment." she said softly, and he cut her off.

"After what he did, that's where they put him?" he said, almost growling. "I don't want him near you, Hermione; _nowhere_ near you. We don't know what else he'll. . ."

"_Please_, Ron, could we not talk about this right now?"

"No, I think we need to." he said, sounding quietly enraged. "Do you know what he did, Hermione? Do you _realize_? The only reason we're going through all this crap. . ."

". . .is because _we_ made a mistake, Ron; Draco didn't do _anything_, so don't blame him for this!" Ron stopped, completely taken aback. She paused, composing herself as tears started tugging at the corners of her eyes. "He's trying to be nice to me, Ron; the least you could do is try to be nice to him, even if you're pretending." He nodded slightly, humbled, and she continued softly.

"He's sorry; so, _so_ sorry. I _know_ he is. He just. . ." She paused. "He just can't say it. He doesn't know how."

"Umhm." Ron said, not altogether ingesting it in the first place. "I, uh. . ." he started, thinking. "I'm a lot. . . _angrier_ now. I dunno, I just. . . I just get so frustrated with people. . . so easily, too. . ." He paused. "I. . . I've never talked to you like that before." He paused. "Sorry." He added. She nodded.

"Maybe, uh. . ." he cleared his throat. "I should take you back. You shouldn't really be up."

"No, it's alright. . . go to class, you're already late."

"Exactly. No point now." He smiled weakly, and she returned it with the same amount of awkwardness. "Come on. Let's go."

They couldn't even find one single word to say the entire way back.

* * *

"Here." Malfoy said, placing her dinner in front of her. "And. . ." he said, handing her a napkin, "Maybe you won't spill it again."

Hermione nodded slightly, ignoring the humor in the situation. "Thanks." she said, and he watched her sit up comfortably before he sat against the wall where his own tray of food lay, eating slowly as he played with the full bucket of soapy water and scrub brush idly. Hermione paused, watching him for a moment before sighing. ". . . Draco?"

"Hm?" he asked, his attention still fixed on popping all the bubbles in the water.

She stopped, intimidated by his lack of attention as she wrung her hands, deciding whether or not she really could trust him. "I. . . if you had to chose. . . had to decide between two people who you loved more than anything. . . what would you do?"

He stopped, looking up at her with no real change in expression. "Are you asking me for advice?" he questioned, not really understanding why she would in the first place.

She threw her arms up in the air and let them fall at her side, her voice weighted by tears as she responded wearily. "Oh God, Draco; just answer the question?" He picked his drink up, sipping it and swirling it in his hand as he thought. "These two people. . ." she started, clarifying the question. "One's. . ."

"I know who you're talking about." he stated, cutting her off. She stared at him. "Ron and the baby?" he asked.

She nodded. "How'd you know that?"

"I heard you talking before. . . to that Weasel of yours, when you left. . ." he said.

She bit her lip. "Don't call him that."

"I don't think he caught the meaning." he continued, stifling the urge to comment on the lack of mental capability that prevented him from understanding.

Hermione nodded slowly. "Me neither."

"Okay, look." Malfoy started, sitting at the foot of her bed before continuing. He paused in thought. "Well, you and the Weas-"

"Ron." she corrected, but it didn't come out as rudely as she had wanted.

"You and _Ron,_" he repeated, continuing on. "are pretty tight, right? I mean, you probably wouldn't be here if you weren't. That kid's always trying to cuddle you, and kiss you, and ugh. . . and you love it, don't you?" She smiled weakly, staring at her hands as she nodded softly. Malfoy snickered. "Loser."

"Oh, shut up." she said, and he sipped at his drink again before continuing.

"But then. . ." he said seriously, trying to find the right words. "Even if it's not really wanted in the first place. . . your baby's your baby, I guess."

Silence.

"I love it." she whispered.

He looked at her. "Hm?"

"The baby. I love it." She teared, placing a gentle hand on her stomach. "It's. . . I dunno, strange. . . but I feel like. . . like I'm the only one who gets that. . . it's a _person_. Not once has anyone treated it like anything but a disaster. The _thing_ Ron's dying for. But. . . it's just as much a person as Ron, right?" Malfoy nodded quietly. A small trail of tears continued down her cheeks, and she bit her lip, her voice shaking. "That's why. . . if it died, I'd feel just as. . . _murdered_ inside." She looked up at Malfoy, his face wrinkled in thought, not really knowing what to do. "Is. . . is that selfish?" she asked, pleading that it wasn't.

He shook his head slowly. "No." She covered her eyes, sobbing lightly, trying to control herself and failing miserably.

"Napkin." Malfoy said, and she looked up.

"What?" He reached over, picking her napkin up off her dinner tray and handing it to her. "Oh. Thank you." She lay back against her pillows as she wiped her face. "I'm okay. So now. . ." she said, trying to change the subject as she sniffed. "Why the wine?"

He stopped, looking at his drink before looking at her funny. "How'd you know this was. . .?"

"Are you kidding? Do you_know _how strong a scent Shiraze has?"

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "Huh." He drank from it again before answering the question. "I nicked it from Snape. Not that strong, though; I'll see what else he's got."

She sighed. "You drink?"

"Only lately. Only thing that keeps me sane around here, I guess."

"You shouldn't; you could get really sick from that if it mixes with all that stuff Pomfrey's giving you."

"That? Nah. She's trying to wean me off it anyway; I barely got any of it in me anymore. Besides," he said, standing as he pulled her bed tray away. "You wouldn't have gotten even half that conversation out of me if I wasn't four glasses in right now." he joked, however true it was, but she didn't find it that funny. "Sleep. You weren't eating much anyways."

She nodded, turning over in her covers to find a comfortable spot as he walked back to his food tray, eager to empty it out. He stopped, turned around and thinking as he looked at her, sighing. "Hey, uh, Granger?"

She turned in her spot, looking at him. "Hm?"

"What you. . . what you told Ron before, to be nice to me? Don't force him; he's got a right to be mad, ya know? It wouldn't change much for me, anyway."

"You didn't do anything, there's no reason to be mad."

"I appreciate it, really, but I know what I did. Maybe he's a little slower to get over it, but that doesn't change it much." He shrugged. "I did what I did, that's all."

She paused. ". . . okay." she said, turning back in her spot.

He swallowed. "And, uh. . . I _am_, you know. . ."

"Hm?"

"I, uh. . ." He sighed. "I'm sorry. _Really_ sorry." She stopped, sitting up as she looked at him. "Just to clarify." he added. She nodded slowly. With that, he turned around again, walking once more to his waiting food tray.

". . . Thank you, Draco."

He turned around, looking at her as he nodded. She paused a moment before rotating over once more in a good position, falling asleep almost instantly. He sighed slightly, plopping down beside his food as he began to eat, thinking strangely.

* * *

AN: Okay, guys, there it is! -jumps up and down- yaaay, I did it! Well, the next chapter is already underway, which means less wait this time. It'll be a lengthy chapter, too; I can't believe I was gonna have this all one chapter. What the hell was I thinking? Honestly. Anyways, there it is, hope you liked it, and please, _please_ review; if you had time to read all this, you have another second to hit review. Thanks so, so much! 

Suki

_formatting updated July 26, 2006_


	10. Word

Thanks, Mate

_chapter ten; Word_

* * *

AN: wow, I can't believe it! I finally made it to 10 chapters! I've never written 10 chapters of anything before, so this is a personal milestone. . . this fic altogether keeps stringing along milestones for me, and I'm really enjoying the ride Well, anyways, here it is! My latest work! Read on, read on:P

* * *

"Look, Ron, I know what you want but I can't do that." 

"Ginny. . ."

"I can't, Ron!"

"What do you mean, you _can't_? You talk to her all the time! It's not like you can't get her to spill her guts out on first command; she's bloody _hormonal_!"

"And you can't?"

"Not at the moment, no!" Ron said as he struck himself in the head with his book, enraged as hell. He grunted as he followed his little sister down their little secret passage to the Gryffindor wing, mulling the situation over in his head. Bribery? _Like I know how to bribe. . . I could always ask Harry to - forget it; he'll let his imagination run wild, that one. . ._ Blackmail? _Like what, that bloody scrub rag she used to carry around the house? Ugh, I'll never find that; she cleans up too well. _Begging? _. . . Worth a shot, I guess. . . Eh, who am I kidding? She'd milk me for all I'm worth and then ditch the job._

"Cunning little bitch." he muttered.

Ginny spun around in what seemed a blur of ballet and extreme physical ability with an expression that could only be described as dangerous. "I'm a _what_, Ron?"

"A _cunning little bitch_." he repeated, barely faltering from the fact that she'd heard so well. "Yeah, that's right; I said it. Know why, Ginny? Cause that's what you bloody well are!"

"Well _excuse me_ for having a _shred_ of decency, Ron; you obviously missed that on the way out of the gene pool."

"Oh, I missed _lots_; decency, understanding, common sense, _a fucking operational mind_; the list just keeps growing, Ginny! What else haven't I got, cause I'd sure hate it if the records fell out of date!"

"Ron, she's _distraught_, and you're expecting me to just prance right in and ask, 'Gee, Hermione, why the long face?'" She stopped, coming up close to his face to speak slowly dark and clearly as to make sure he understood her next point entirely. "I can't help what happened, Ron. I can't fucking help _anything_, so don't expect me to blow off what little confidence in me she's got left for the sake of your bloody _nervousness_!" she spat, tears welling in her eyes. Her chest heaved slightly but she held her composure, leaving the tears with nothing to do but glimmer in her eyes.

"Yeah, that's right, Ginny; cry." her brother taunted. "Go on, cry. Because you've got it _so_ hard, what with your perfect little personality and your dignity and your hero of a boyfriend." he spat harshly, and the more she heard of it, the more she really did want to cry. "Let's not forget all that _decency_ you've got!"

"You have _no idea _what my life is like, so don't bloody pretend you do!" Her face burned as red as her hair, wet, hot tears falling down her cheeks.

Ron snickered, only fueled by her outrage. "Oh, so I have no idea what _your _life is like? _Are you fucking sane?_"

"Stop fucking _cursing _at me!" she screamed, the tears coming so long and hard that it raped her voice raw as she did so.

"No!" he retorted. "I won't, okay? So get used to it!" he roared in her face, and his cheeks reddened as the blood pumped into his face, his tears ready to fall yet completely forced back. She just stood there, staring at him, at his expression, at the fear in his eyes that completely betrayed him. . . and he'd never made her feel so small.

"I've got 5 months to live, Ginny." he stated, out of a mix of anger and spite and dread and desperation all at the same time. "And I've got about 10 days to basically set things right for my girlfriend and my _kid_ so they can manage without me for the rest of their lives. I've got no money, no inheritance coming to me _ever_, I'm not even _of age_ so that I can actually _try _and set something up. . . oh, and let's not forget, Hermione father's an abusive son of a bitch who despises me so much that he'll _kill_ any child of mine before he lets his daughter in his house with it."

"Abusive?" Ginny piped weakly, testing the waters with an extremely dangerous edge. "Wha-"

"It doesn't matter!" he boomed back, embarrassed with himself that he'd let that slip in public. "_Nothing_ matters anymore, Ginny; nothing matters except me figuring out some goddamn way to keep a straight enough face so I can do what has to be done. Let me tell ya, Gin, it's _not working_! Because you won't talk to Hermione, and she sure as hell won't talk to me right now, so she's just gonna sit in all that depression until it finally drives her mad, and I'm not too keen on letting that happen, but I've got no means of communication left with her."

"_What are you talking about?_" Ginny annunciated, all the building blame he'd dumped on her starting to spark something. "Ron, if there's _anyone _she'll talk to, _anyone,_ it's you, and you know that!"

"No she won't!" he shrieked, his voice so sore from all the shouting that it barely reached a proper volume level.

"Oh yeah, well why not, then? Tell me, Ron."

"Because she's scared of me!" he roared, his face burning six shades darker, his eyes ablaze as they accumulated more moisture, unable to hold it all as it poured down his cheeks. Ginny's face fell so fast, her lungs arrested themselves, completely stopping her from breathing. "She's fucking _terrified_! That's why she's not talking to me, Ginny, _that's why_! So ya wanna know who she _has _been talking to? _Malfoy_. She's more scared of _me_ than _Malfoy_. Do you have. . . any idea, any _clue_ how this is clawing at me?" he paused, almost hyperventilating to get some air into him, trying to stabilize himself without remembering how it was done. "Something's. . . really, _really _wrong. . . and she won't let me help her." He swallowed hard. "_She pushed me away when I tried to touch her, Ginny. _I put my arm out, just to hug her. . . and she. . . just like that. . . I mean. . ." His voice choked as his arms moved uncertainly, as if reconstructing the whole scene but at a complete loss as to how to go about it. With just a second more of frustration, he hit himself in the head so hard that made a loud sort of sickening sound, and with that, he angrily let his arms shoot stark straight at his sides before he turned on his heel to leave, completely giving up.

Ginny swallowed, moving her head back and forth slightly, as if fighting with a voice in her head as to how to get him to stop walking away. Anything, _anything, _just don't let him leave like this. "I'll talk to her!" she called pleadingly, staring at his back as he stopped moving, remaining in that same position for so long that she could barely conclude what he was thinking. He turned nothing but his head as he looked at her, seemingly unchanged by any presence of tears or redness in her cheeks.

"Yeah." he choked. "You do that." And with that, he was gone.

* * *

"You mean . . . people really _do _wear that?" Ginny asked cautiously, almost disgusted at the thought as she stared down at the page. "It's hideous. Merlin, that's a _compliment_. . ." she shuddered, flipping the page in one of Hermione's muggle magazines so she wouldn't have to bear the sight any longer. 

Hermione flinched slightly in her body's now usual way of replacing a laugh, lying back deeper into her pillows as her eyes closed slightly. It was kind of nice having a little company aside from Ron and Draco and the occasional Hogwarts staff member chock full of the answers to her life. Ugh, it was sickening, really. Ginny was just so casual and genuine; it was a breath of fresh air. Well. . . almost. There was still something. . . eh. . . _off _about her. . . Come to think of it, Ginny was never one for such. . . _abruptness_, say. Hermione'd never seen her so hurried in her actions, the pages of the magazine snapping as she flipped through them, constantly moving some part of her body as if she couldn't sit still. . . She was _never_ like that; but oh _baby_ was she whipping those pages fast. . .

_Baby._ Hermione thought suddenly, every thought and emotion immediately dropping. _No baby. . ._

". . .Hermione?"

"Oh, sorry; did you say something?" she replied tentatively, opening her eyes. Her breathing hastened for a moment, but she was able to mask it fairly quickly.

Ginny sighed. "You alright? You seem kinda distracted."

"I'm fine."

"You sure?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Oh." Ginny stared at her a moment. "Okay." she said strangely, her eyes darting back down to the magazine for distraction. "Ugh. Utterly repulsive." The page flipped again with a snapping sound and Hermione sighed. Why did Weasleys always have to be so obviously embarrassed?

"Hey, Granger!" a familiar voice called from the hallway. Ginny's eyes swerved to the door with an immediate malice as it opened to reveal Draco, who propped his bag on top of the night stand of an unoccupied bed before sifting through it, continuing to speak idly. "The kitchens are all backed up; one of the house elves set his sodding _pillow case_ on fire, so the - " His voice went completely inaudible as he looked up, noticing Ginny for the first time. He looked at her for a moment, opening his mouth to speak in what looked like the beginnings of an insult, then shut it just as abruptly. "I'll be back once the lunch tray comes through." he said tersely, closing the door behind him as he exited the room.

"Jackass." Ginny concluded, returning to the magazine once more.

Hermione sighed. "Be nice, Ginny."

"Nah." she replied as indifferently as if she had been asked if what she was reading was actually interesting. She stopped a moment, hovering her hand over a random model's chest, and abruptly brought her palm to smack it loudly.

Hermione jumped. "_Why_ do you keep doing that?"

"Why won't they _move_? Did you _petrify_ it or something?"

"It's a _muggle_ magazine, Ginny; the pictures don't move."

Ginny blinked. "Ew."

"Ginny, I'm serious; could you be just a _little_ nice to him?"

"Why should I?"

"Because he's trying really hard to make up for what you all think he 'did', and it's not fair to keep shoving it in his face." she replied, almost gritting her teeth as she did so.

"Merlin's balls, stop defending him; you sound hideous doing it."

"_What does that even mean?_" Hermione erupted, exasperated.

Ginny sighed. "Hermione, do you really think this would all be happening if _fairness_ actually existed? Come on, now." she said pleadingly, looking at her friend with the most pitiful look. Pity. Ugh. How disgusting. Just looking at the way it contorted her face, changed her volume, her tone. . . it really made Hermione want to sick up.

She shivered, her whole body vibrating with her utter disgust. "Alright, _fine_, be a complete bitch to him, for all I care; just stop looking at me like that!"

"Fine! I will!"

"Fine!" Hermione returned, falling back onto her pillows, frustrated.

Before Ginny could even comment, the door opened once more as Draco silently made his way to them, tray in hand as Ginny's silent glower displayed her fury. He set the tray down, fixing the rolling table over the bed before placing it in front of Hermione. He glanced at Ginny apathetically as he paused. "Weasley," he acknowledged.

"Malfoy," she returned, nearly spitting.

He nodded, turning away from her to avoid using every curse within his immense multilingual vocabulary just to tell her off. "They sent up what they had just so you could take this." he said as he directed his attention back to Hermione, holding up a small vial of what looked like some thick, purple variation of a potion. "Pomfrey says to drink it before you eat; I'll bring more food to stomach it out with once the kitchens are alright."

"What is it?" Hermione asked tentatively, barely sure she really wanted to know.

"Calming draught."

"A _sedative_? What for?"

Draco shrugged. "She thought you could use some after what happened this morning."

"What happened this morning?" Ginny asked, refusing to be let out of the conversation by the likes of any Malfoy.

"Nothing; little accident, that's all." Hermione said, waving it off in a mix of inattentiveness and embarrassment.

"Chucking an Arithmancy text at Pomfrey could _barely_ be considered an accident." Draco pointed out smoothly, a wry smile crossing his lips as he chuckled.

"Oh, shut _up_." Hermione retorted. "If I hadn't done that, you'd have found something bigger to throw at her, so don't pretend you're so bloody perfect."

"I don't _pretend_, Granger; I perform. Remember that. And drink _all _of that; it's not as bad as it looks." And with that, he silently took his leave.

No sooner than the soft thud of the door was heard did Ginny jump right on board. "Ugh. You're gross. Why're you so. . . _chummy_ with him?"

"Well, it gets a bit _lonely_ around here, if you haven't noticed!" Hermione retorted. "Besides, when you spend a lot of time with someone. . . you learn to tolerate each other, alright?"

"That looks a little deeper than _toleration_ to me."

"Shut up, Ginny." she replied curtly. "You don't know him, don't bloody pretend you do." And with that, she swigged the whole calming draught down in one gulp.

Ah. Sedation. That _did _feel good.

* * *

"Well, she's furious with me, if that's what you wanted to know." Ginny offered, masking her disgust with a rather large gulp of pumpkin juice before continuing on with her dinner. 

Ron grunted. "Great. What'd you do _this_ time, Ginny?"

"I didn't do anything!" she snapped. "She just got all mad when me and Malfoy didn't get along! Honestly, does she really expect us to be all peachy?"

"Still, she didn't tell you _anything?_ Not even before Malfoy showed up?" Ron thought out loud, stabbing at his chicken idly. "It just seems a little. . . I dunno. . . strange."

"I _told_ you already." she started, chewing what bit of food she had in her mouth before continuing. "She won't talk to _me_; you're just gonna have to talk to her yourself."

"My _God_, could you chew with your mouth closed?"

"My _God_," she mimicked. "Could you not sound like such a muggle?"

"What do you have against muggles?"

"_Nothing!_ It's just annoying!"

"My girlfriend's _muggleborn_, Ginny; it's a hard habit to break." He sipped at his drink, letting a moment pass silently. "Where's Harry at?" he asked. "I haven't seen him since Potions."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "With Lavender and Seamus again."

"Ginny, just get over your pride and forgive him. Keep things simple, for once."

"I did already." she retorted. "He just doesn't know about it yet. Besides, it's funny when he thinks someone's mad at him; it drives him insane."

"Oh really? And when did this little enlightenment happen for you?" he asked as he raised an interested eyebrow.

"After he stood up for you and Hermione, at that meeting." she admitted smally. Ron blinked thoughtfully. "A little much, I know, but. . . Well, you can't blame me! I needed _some_ proof that he actually cares about what's happening!"

"Of course he does, Ginny; he's my _best mate_! How could you say something like that?"

"Well for someone who _cares_ so much, he's letting what little tidbit he thinks he's got going on with _me_ get in the way of spending time with you your last few days. Some best mate, yeah?" She choked, realizing her mistake as soon as she made it. "I didn't mean that."

He paused momentarily. "I know." he lied. "And for someone who's already 'forgiven him', you sure are spinning a shiteload of accusations. Don't comment; I'm just saying." He said forebodingly. Ginny sighed. "I've got things to do. Talk to you later, yeah?" He got up silently, making his way towards the tower through the vastly empty halls. "Little _bitch_. . ." he growled, letting his foot fly straight into the stone walls for good measure of emphasis. "Thinks she knows _everything_, doesn't she, the little. . ." He grunted, closing his eyes as his fist punched straight into the wall, as well. He wished he had half the balls to just bash his head into it. He may as well; it would solve just about everything, wouldn't it? At the very least, he'd completely bleed the hell out of himself and delay a few days worth of Azkaban.

Of course, he was hoping for more extreme effects, at the moment.

"Weasley! Wait up!"

Ron's disgustingly frightening episode paused as he turned his head to the source of the voice to find Malfoy, looking as darkly arrogant as ever. His face was completely bare of any form of grin, however. Ron grunted. "What do _you_ want?"

"A word." he replied brusquely. "Too much?" Ron's dark look seemed to be enough of a prod to continue. "No wise cracks, Weasley. Did you send your sister down to hospital today, or did she just happen to be visiting?"

"Why's that your business?"

"Merlin, just _answer the question_!"

"No." Ron growled, turning on his heel to continue walking down the hall.

"You wanna know what's wrong with her, right?"

Ron turned ever so slowly, staring at him.

"Well?" Malfoy prodded. "That's why you sent your sister down, right? To find out? You Gryffindor are all alike; you can't match subtlety for your own balls."

"Out with it, then!" Ron burst, infuriated.

Then, without a doubt, was the strangest moment in history Ronald Weasley had ever witnessed. Malfoy turned his head to his left painfully slow, staring out into the open air. Then to the right; same procedure. Then, he did something even more peculiar; he waved his hand for Ron to come closer. "Come on, come on!" he hissed. "I have to get back downstairs; they don't know I'm gone!"

Ron merely blinked, completely dumbfounded. He was imagining this, yeah? There was no other explanation. . . no other _sound _one anyway. Then again, behavior like this associated with a Malfoy shouldn't have the word _sound_ within the same thirty inches of parchment altogether. What else could he do, though? For all he knew, Malfoy looked dreadfully serious, aside from looking utterly ridiculous, his hand waving faster every moment Ron chose to stay put.

"I'm _serious;_ come _here_, _damnit!_" he hissed, and, taking one last look around, Ron reluctantly obliged. "Okay." Malfoy said, sighing. "Look, any way I try to say this is just gonna sound wrong. . . so I can't be held accountable for what wording flies out of my mouth, yeah?" Ron nodded slowly, a confused eyebrow lifting silently. This was absolutely bonkers. "Hermione told you about her . . . fainting the other day, right? I know she did; I was there."

"You were _what?_" Ron burst, and Malfoy cringed.

"Shite,can you _keep it down to a whisper_?" he muttered menacingly. "Yeah, I was there; that whole conversation said _nothing _to you? _Merlin, _you're thick; Gryffindor's not even the word! That non-subtlety thing's _really_ got to change, mate, it's _pathetic. . ._"

"_Don't_ call me 'mate'." Ron snarled.

"As I was _saying_. . ." he continued impatiently. "She didn't tell you _why _she fainted, right?" Ron shook his head stupidly. Malfoy sighed. "Ugh. Okay, so she was in this meeting, up in McGonagall's office. . . you know McGonagall, always sticking her fat-ass nose in everything; she thought it best to suggest Hermione . . ." he swallowed his sentence, staring at Ron's complete obliviousness. He couldn't do it, not with him looking at him like that. He cleared his throat, closing his eyes tightly.

Silence.

"Well?" Ron urged impatiently. "Ou - "

Malfoy's tongue went wild, completely shocked by Ron's sudden voice, but it was just as well. "ShetoldHermionetoconsiderabortionandthenshefaintedandthat'sit." he blurted. He opened his eyes, somehow wishing that Ron wouldn't have heard that; he couldn't have. Malfoy didn't even know what he said himself.

Oh, but he heard.

Every.

Single.

Word.

* * *

An: wow, that chapter was fairly painless. Sorry for the slight cliffhanger, you'll be rewarded, I promise:P please review, the faster you review, the faster the next chapter will be up! 

- love, Suki

_formatting updated July 26, 2006_


	11. Cry

Thanks, Mate

_chapter eleven; Cry_

* * *

AN: ahh, yay! Another chapter! Here it is, and I have a little message for you guys at the end… read on! 

**WARNING: Lots of cursing here, a bit more than usual. Just in case it offends you or anything.**

* * *

"ShetoldHermionetoconsiderabortionandthenshefaintedandthat'sit." 

Before Malfoy even registered what had happened, he found himself wincing from a slight pain from the back of his neck as he was slammed against pure stone. The blood slithering down his neck onto his robes was in such contrast with his pale skin that it looked almost eerie.

"What the _fuck_ is wrong with you?" his attacker screamed, letting him fall from the wall to the ground, continuing without breath. "I swear on your mother's life, Malfoy, if you ever, _ever_, think of saying that to my face again, I'll rip your fucking lips right off your face! _Then_ we'll see how hard you can bleed, yeah?"

Malfoy inhaled hard, barely ingesting Ron's words as he held his chest, grasping for breath. That slam really did hurt; he could just feel his brain vibrating from the impact. He propped his body up on his free arm, looking up into Ron's eyes to decipher what he'd missed in words. He grimaced. "Let's get one thing straight, Weasley; you ever crash me like that again and you'll have more than a little blood loss to reckon with." Ron's eyes raged, and his voice began growling as he opened his mouth to speak, simultaneously whipping his leg out to kick Malfoy's support arm straight off the ground. "I'm _not_ done talking yet!" Malfoy snarled, his hand grabbing Ron's outstretched foot and twisting it at such an angle that his head would hit he ground before the rest of his body. Malfoy took the time to stand as Ron screamed, sputtering curses wherever he had the extra breath to do so, thrashing around in his spot on the ground in a mix of sheer fury and pain.

"I'll smack you, you little fuck; you have no - "

"Merlin, will you _shut the hell up_, Weasley? I don't fucking care if you got a little denial going on, that's your business; you ever knock me over it again, though. . . it's called _don't kill the fucking messenger_! Ever heard of it?"

"Listen, you, you tell me what's _really _wrong with her, none of this bullshite,because I'm about to - "

"What, Weasel? You think she wouldn't want this all to end? Is that what you think?"

Ron stopped cold. His whole body froze, forcing his mind to actually consider that as beads of sweat ran down his face. Malfoy stepped back, startled by the reaction. Ron gritted his teeth, his tones so rough that his message was barely recognizable. "She wouldn't do that. She wouldn't kill her own kid."

"Oh, _come on_! Be a man, you little shite!" Malfoy ordered, grabbing Ron by his shirt collar and throwing him up into a standing position. Ron stepped back as he stabilized himself, staring at Malfoy so maliciously that one could only conclude he fully intended to kill him. "If you really think I'm lying to you right now, you've got no fucking sense of decorum. I'd lie to your face any day without one problem, but you don't mess in shitewith people's kids; it sure as hell isn't funny, not by me."

Ron's expression lay completely unchanged.

"Did you hear a _word_ I just said?" Malfoy burst, exasperated, his head feeling a bit numb from the open wound on his neck. "I said it's the truth; does that mean _anything_ to you?"

"Not really." he grunted.

"_Merlin_, not even a blasted apology? 'Gee, sorry, Malfoy, for crushing your whole body into solid stone for no real legit purpose'? Ugh, and you wonder why she would consider it." he spat, turning to leave.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ron asked darkly, ignoring the attempt to leave.

Malfoy turned on his heel slowly. "I thought that much was obvious."

"Well, obviously not."

The Slytherin raised an eyebrow, carrying out his explanation in as sarcastically belittling a voice he could, completely fed up with his Gryffindor counterpart. "Where to start. . . you screamed at Lavender Brown the other day for attempting to help that girl of yours, you were in a huff-puff with your sister the whole dinner period, only to come out here and kick the wall a few times just to vent, and you've just now attempted to completely crush me for no apparent reason, aside from denial. I'm guessing you've got a few anger issues to deal with, yeah?"

"What does that have to do with _anything_?"

"A lot." Malfoy snarled. "Because who's to say you won't do it to Hermione next?"

Ron's teeth clenched almost as fast as his fists, and he walked straight up to Malfoy with the most ominous presence he'd ever withheld. He extracted his fist from his pocket, punching him so hard in the face that he nearly fell straight off his feet. "Listen _good,_ Malfoy; I will never in my life hit Hermione. _Ever_. You ever suggest that to me again, though, and I'd have no hesitation hitting _you _for all I'm worth. And I sure as hell won't be some abusive son of a bitch like that disgusting pig of a father she has, mark my fucking words."

And with that, he was gone.

* * *

_Who's to say you won't do it to Hermione next?_

If only Draco had known just how powerful those words could be.

_Dark._

_Even with the lights spelled on, the place desperately needed respelling._

_Hard, musky scent he'd known well over a year now._

_He hated that scent._

_Mum would be coming any second with a new room for them to clean._

_No, not this time; they were at Grimmauld Place for other reasons. . ._

_Piercing screams echoing through the ceiling, resonating in contrast to a loud smack. . ._

"_I'm sorry, Daddy, **I'm sorry**!"_

"_You should be **shot** for what you let that wizard scum do to you! It's time you learned some respect, some obedience; Lord knows you've defied me enough. . ."_

_Rushing up the stairs._

_**Merlin**, which room? Where are they?_

"_Daddy, no; **please**. . ."_

_Creaking as the door flies off its hinges._

"_Don't touch her, you bastard!"_

_The sound of a punch, of bones breaking under its impact._

"_How **dare** you! She's your **daughter**! I swear, you ever hit her again. . ."_

_Silence._

_The steady breathing of an unconscious figure on the floor._

"_Ron. . ."_

"_What's wrong with you? Why didn't you hit him? Don't let him do that to you."_

_Subtle gasping._

"_. . .I'm sorry."_

"_You should be. What's **wrong **with you?"_

_Footsteps approaching her._

"_I'm **sorry, **Ron; I swear. . ."_

_No; he wouldn't do it. . .Not to her. . ._

_No. . ._

Ron choked as he awoke, unable to stabilize his breath effectively against the memory.

No, not memory. Dream. It was just a dream.

He panted, sitting up in his sweat-ridden bed, running his clammy fingers through his hair. So much sweat. He shivered, letting the comfort of reality ebb his nightmare away.

He shivered again. His reality wasn't that great either.

"Holy Merlin. . ." he squeaked, just hearing Malfoy's goddamn voice in his head. _Who's to say you won't do it to Hermione next?_ He clenched his jaw, letting it go just as quickly to utter a bitter chuckle. This wasn't happening. How could he have gotten so bad that he actually had to think about how to restrain himself around people? And even worse, around _Hermione_? He wasn't raised like this. Okay, so sure, he wasn't exactly impartial to the occasional brawl with the twins or getting Percy what he deserved now and again (though he certainly deserved more than Ron ever chose to serve him up.). That was ridiculously inevitable with six boys shoved within the same four rooms for half their lives. But still, it's not like all they _ever_ did was fight. It was just. . . their way to earn some respect from each other, say. That's all. What could be wrong with that?

_That's what you did with Malfoy too, isn't it, punching him to get him in his place?_

Ron blinked. Malfoy couldn't _possibly_ count; he was being a right foul git, Ron only gave him what he had coming. Then again, he was being kinda foul himself, wasn't he? In fact, half of that conversation probably wouldn't have taken place if Ron had half the decency to keep the focus on the _real_ problem at hand and not the few remaining fragments of his sound reputation.

He grunted. There goes that decency thing again.

Okay, so the respect theory didn't seem extremely farfetched. But _Draco-blasted-Malfoy_? What could possibly make Ron care what he thought? He _hated_ the bastard, and the feeling, of course, was drastically mutual. It didn't make any sense!

_Maybe because no one talks to you anymore?_

Ha. Now _that_ was a thought.

_Think about it; when was the last time you sat in the common room without every eye plastered to your back? The last time you sat in the great hall with your whole crew, not a care in the whole world? They all think you're disgusting. They think you **deserve** Azkaban, leaving Hermione with a child like that. It's only fitting you'd want to make a new little friend, even if it is Malfoy._

Ron beat his head into his pillow, completely unwilling to hear it.

_You knew what could happen if she got pregnant; you **knew** she'd be the one left all alone, but you didn't think about that, did you? You didn't possibly think that she might not know that, what with being **muggleborn** and all, didn't even think to **mention **it! Real mature, yeah? Responsible, too._

_WELL, WHEN YOU'RE ALL CAUGHT UP IN THE MOMENT, YOU'RE HARDLY THINKING OF THINGS LIKE THAT! _Ron fought himself, almost shaking from the intense effect those thoughts really did have on him. _And it's not like I've been spending so much time in Gryffindor anymore; I don't have **time** for people to talk to me._

_Not even Harry?_

Ron's eyes rose slowly, fixed on the curtain that separated his bed from Harry's as his mind chose to continue the argument.

_It sure has been a while since he last talked to you, hasn't it? Makes you wonder what **he** thinks of all this, yeah?_

_That's got nothing to do with me. _he fought, thinking it so hard that he would have no other choice but to believe it. _He still thinks Ginny's upset with him, and Ginny's been hanging around me, so that's why he hasn't been with us a lot. . ._

_What's stopping him from talking to you in the dorms, then?_

Ron lay completely still, able to finish that thought on his own, but his mind had grown so increasingly sarcastic that it just had to torture him further.

_You've gone so low that not even the all-accepting hero of the whole fricken wizarding world will speak with you. In fact, when you think of it, that's probably why Malfoy can bear to talk to you at all; you've finally stooped to his level. You've made yourself his equal among the scum of the earth, a title you accepted the moment you decided you wanted his blasted respect, which you only wanted because you were feeling a little lonely. You figured if you were already damned then you may as well make a name for yourself among the cretins. Bit cunning, actually; very Slytherin tactic for a Gryffindor. See? You're looking like his equal already! Congratulations; you've got the moral fiber of a Malfoy._

Ron rocked in his spot, grasping his pillow between his arms as tightly as he could manage as he thought. _Shut up, shut up. . . _But it wouldn't go away. It just kept repeating itself until he found himself falling off his bed, hitting the thin rug at his bedside, feeling the impact of falling on stone through it.

"What was that?" Neville shrieked, waking in such a panic that everyone in the room seemed to jump out of their sleep. "Whoever's in here, you'd better leave now, or. . . or. . ."

"Ron!" Harry interrupted, leaning off the side of his bed to meet his friend's eyes. "God, are you alright?"

Ron only stared up into his best mate's eyes, his expression as blank as he could have ever managed before, searching for something. Anything. He didn't care what he found in Harry's eyes, he just wanted it to be genuine, whatever it was. Something _real_. . . but it wasn't there. Not this time. He shivered slightly, peeling his vision away from him, closing his eyes so he wouldn't be tempted to go looking again. Could he really have gone so rotten, so despicable, that even _Harry_ was disgusted by him?

He had to fix this. And he had to fix it now.

* * *

"Hermione!" Ron called desperately, shutting the hospital wing door closed so Madame Pomfrey wouldn't hear. He rushed to the side of her bed, shaking her ever so slightly. "Hermione, wake up! _Please_, wake up!" 

"Merlin, Weasley; what now?"

Ron raised his eyes defensively to the bed across the way, watching as Malfoy rubbed his eyes, his every action laced with annoyance. "Save it, Malfoy; I'm not here for you."

"And you _still _have the cheek to come in here and wake me up at 2 in the morning? Oh, that's nice." Malfoy suddenly blinked, his whole demeanor completely changing. "Oh, wait. . . Don't wake her up; it'll only mess her whole sleep pattern up."

"_What?"_

"She's sedated; she's got to come out of it naturally, or. . ."

"What'd you do that for?" Ron shot back, appalled and enraged all at once. "My God, Malfoy, you can't just do that to her; there's Norwegian Wet-grain all over those potions! What if you got her addicted to it? Or the _baby_, for Merlin's sake?"

"_I_ didn't give her _anything_, Weasley; Pomfrey did. And do you really think she'd forget something like that? Norwegian Wet-grain's not the only way to knock someone out, or are you really that dense?"

"Oh, so sue me for caring! And what's with this 'Don't wake her up, it'll only mess her whole sleep pattern up'? Since when are _you_ some medical expert, knowing something like that?"

"Since Pomfrey told me 'Don't wake her up, Draco, it'll only mess her whole sleep pattern up'." Draco stated, a smirk crossing his lips. Ron grunted.

". . .Ron?"

"Too late!" Malfoy said in a little sing-song tune, turning over to sleep again. Ron winced as he saw the bandage that draped the back of Draco's neck; he must have lied to Pomfrey about how it happened.

"That you?" Hermione's voice came again, her eyes only opening slightly.

"Yeah." he whispered, kneeling at the side of her bed and leaning against it, raising a hesitant hand to stroke her hair. He left it to rest atop her head, relaxing as he felt her settle under it. That was good. _Very_ good. "How're you feeling?" he asked, finding a bit more confidence.

"Tired."

Ron smiled weakly. "Oh, right, the potion. . . Sorry." He could've kicked himself, he felt so bad.

"Umhm." she managed, sounding as if she were to drift back to sleep any second now. "What're you doing here?"

Ron paused, biting his lip. "I just. . . uh, needed to talk to you, that's all . . ."

"About what?"

"Just. . . things, I guess. . ."

Silence.

"I love you." he whispered smally, so low that she couldn't have possibly heard it in her current state.

"Hm?" she asked, settling down deeper in her pillow.

"I love you." he repeated. "And I'm sorry, too."

"Don't be." she replied, though her current frame of mind prevented her from asking what for. "And I. . . I love you."

Ron blinked slowly, biting his lip as he spoke. He shouldn't be asking this. ". . .What was that?"

"What?"

Definitely should _not_ be asking this. "That. . . hesitation. What was that?"

"Hesitation? What. . .?"

His face fell all the same. "You don't think I mean it."

She groaned slightly, turning her head to bring her lazy hands to rub her eyes. "Ron, I'm half asleep." She tried to sit up slightly, letting his hand fall from her head. A moment passed before he replaced it, but she waved it away drowsily, yawning as she continued to brush her hair out of the way. Only then did she look up at his stricken face, utterly confused. "Ron?"

"Please, Mione. . . _Please_ don't push me away like that anymore. . . I can't take it."

She only stared at him. "Ron. . ."

"I know I've been scaring you lately, and - "

"_Scaring me_? _Wait_ just a moment!" she said, almost instantly awake. Her eyes bore into his, reading for something, almost scared at his very train of thought. "Scaring. . . how could you possibly think that?"

"That's why you won't let me touch you, right? You're scared of me."

"That's not it at _all_, Ron! Not even close!"

"What is it, then?"

"I just. . ." She paused, delving into a quiet presence, unable to look him in the eyes. "I just have a lot on my mind."

". . .Do you wanna talk about it?" She nodded fervently, and Ron's heart instantly sank. Was she really waiting for someone to vent to all this time? How could he let her down like that? Ashamed of himself, he let his head hang, trying to look as encouraging as he could.

"I love you." she started, playing with her fingers as she worked through it, speaking as if Ron were only there to listen and not to react. "I mean, I _know_ I love you. I have to, right? It's just. . ." She paused, sighing slightly. "It's just this; I was talking to McGonagall the other day. . ." Ron felt his fist clench at the mention of that name. "And she said that. . . we're fooling ourselves. And we're just scared, and confused, and naïve, and. . ." She swallowed, her voice choking slightly. "And it's just. . . hard not to think about it, that's all."

"Don't dwell on it. She didn't mean for it."

"But she _did_; that's exactly what she meant for, and every time I tell myself she's wrong. . . it just finds some other way to come back and make me think on it. And every time I think about it. . ." She shook her head. "I just don't want it to happen again."

Silence.

"Do you think she's wrong?" Ron asked silently. Hermione looked up at him, staring into his expression. Blank. Completely blank. He wasn't looking for deeper meaning; he just wanted her to talk. Help her reason through it.

She swallowed, bracing herself for the worst. "I don't know." Her reply hung in the air as she studied his reaction, noticing nothing but a slight flinch. Okay, so he reacted. At least he was trying. It almost even comforted her that he had let a response slip, in a way. . . _almost_. "It just. . . makes sense, don't you think?"

No answer.

She swallowed harder, shivering slightly, convinced she'd just made a horrible mistake. Every second more that Ron chose not to react just made her feel the weight of her guilt more, and more, and more, until. . . "Never mind."

Ron looked up. "What?"

"Forget I said anything. . . honestly, what was I _thinking_? I just. . . ugh, forget it. It's the hormones."

"No, Mione, keep going; I was ju - "

"I love you." she interrupted, her voice going higher and higher in pitch as she became closer and closer to bawling. "I love you so, _so_ much, and I - "

"_Whoa_, there!" Ron interjected, grabbing hold of her hands in an attempt to calm her down. He brushed his fingertips across her forehead momentarily, pushing the loose strands of hair in her face to rest behind her ears. "I don't want you crying like that, alright? And I _definitely_ don't want you to say all that if you don't think you mean it." Hermione froze, shocked by his bluntness. How could he just say something like that? So easily, too?

He got up off his knees, letting Hermione inch over slowly so he could sit beside her. He propped her pillow up against the headboard of the bed, letting her settle in comfortably with him against it, squeezing her hands before he continued. "This is just. . . you and me right now, alright?" He swallowed. "No McGonagall, no Malfoy, no. . . no Azkaban, no nothing; just you and me, talking like best mates. Cause that's what we were before we were anything, right?"

"Right." she squeaked uncertainly.

"And mates can say anything they want to each other, yeah?"

"Umhm."

"Okay." he finalized, letting the silent air all around them be his prod.

"Okay." she echoed. "Okay. . ." She breathed in deeply, letting it come out nice and smooth. "I love you," She shook her head as he opened his mouth to say something. "No, let me finish. I love you, but. . . I dunno, I guess I. . . _forgot_. . ."

"Forgot." he repeated. Did that sound angry? It sounded angry, didn't it? Ugh, _why_ did it have to sound angry? He just wanted to prod her, damnit!

The anger, however, was all in his head, and the confidence that grew with her every word proved it. "Yeah, that's right. . . like. . . I don't. . . _feel_ it like I used to, you know?" She shrugged. "Like right now. How we are, wrapped up like this. . . it'd make my whole body shake just being close to you like that. . ." She shook her head. "It's just_ normal _now."

Ron tilted his head. "We're just. . . used to each other now, I guess. . ."

She shook her head. "No, that's not it. It's more like. . ." She paused, wording it in her head. "What with everything that's happened, and all the stress, and the strain, and the. . . we've forgotten ourselves. Like we're completely different people now."

Ron snickered. "Definitely."

"I mean, Ron, all these things keep _happening _to me, and I just. . . don't remember. I've got 3 whole days missing from my life. Meanwhile, Draco can tell me at least 3 conversations we'd had during that time straight up. And the _screaming_. . . I've already told you about that, I'm not doing it again. And I'm all disheveled all the time, and discomposed, and I sound like a babbling idiot all the time, not to mention I'm completely _bipolar. _Oh, and utterly _useless_. . . Have I told you that I haven't been able to perform one single spell in over a month? Not _one bloody spell_! I mean, _something_ has to be completely wrong with me. . ."

"It's the pregnancy." he said. "When the baby's magical core starts growing, it exhausts the mother's, or something. . . something to do with conflicting energies. . .I don't really remember. . ."

"What's that mean?"

"Well, the baby's not a squib." he offered. Hermione rolled her eyes.

Pause.

"I'm not proud of it, but. . ." Ron started, biting his lip. "I'm not who I used to be, either. And. . . you know, with everything that happened, who wouldn't change?"

"No one, I know. But what worries me is. . ." She inclined her head guiltily. ". . .is that these new people we've become. . . they aren't really as good for each other as we would have thought, that's all."

The sound of Draco's heavy breathing as he slept. And _only_ that.

"I think I just. . . need some time, just to think this all over. . ." Hermione resolved quietly. "I mean, Ron, we're in _way over our heads_! Think about it; a baby. A real, live baby. And it's _our_ responsibility. What are we getting ourselves into?"

". . .Should I answer that?"

Hermione sighed. "No; of course not. I'm sorry. It's just a lot."

"What're you covering for? I didn't say you were wrong."

"You're thinking it." she accused, crestfallen.

"Am not." She gave him a hard look at that response, to which he stared her straight in the eye. "You and me." he reminded her. "I'm fine; trust me." She shrugged uncertainly. "'What are we getting ourselves into?'. . ." he nudged, his hand moving in the air as he spoke, motioning for her to continue the thought.

"What are we getting ourselves into. . ." she started, spitting out the rest of her argument in a matter-of-factly tone. "We're sixteen years old, we shouldn't be doing this, we have no clue how to raise a child, _I _have no clue how to raise a child _with no help_," she paused. "Enough?" she pleaded. He shook his head slowly, suddenly not able to look at her. He didn't want to hear it; he knew that much for certain. But she needed to hear herself say it. Hell, she needed _him _to hear her say it, and they both knew it. Tears surfaced in her eyes, and she hiccupped subtly, choking out her words. "It's not a good idea, Ron; it's not. _We can't do this_."

The heaving of Ron's chest as he breathed in deeper and deeper was so loud that he could barely hear her soft whimpering; had he not been able to feel her tears seeping through his t-shirt, he wouldn't have even known she was crying.

In fact, it was only then that Ron realized he'd come down to the hospital wing all the way from Gryffindor Tower, at two in the morning, wearing nothing but his pants and a t-shirt. _I could have at least grabbed some trousers. . . _

But for all the embarrassment, he barely seemed to feel any of it past the abrupt urge to either hit something or cry, neither of which his conscious mind felt like doing. He shoved his fist in his mouth, nibbling on his knuckles until they were white; an action that seemed to delay both impulses. He just continued on like that, biting down his urges as his free hand ruffled Hermione's hair reflexively for comfort. He didn't seem to have any thoughts running through his head, any words, yet the voice he was hearing out loud sounded strangely like his own. "So, I guess all this about us not being. . . you know, for real. . . McGonagall was just leading up to. . ." He caught hold of his tongue at that moment, mentally scolding it for speaking without permission.

Hermione seemed to give no prod, still sniveling and tearing with her face pressed in his chest. He was positive she hadn't heard, so unbelievably sure, until he heard just three syllables whispered from her lips; "You and me."

Huh. Fancy that.

He chuckled slightly, unsure of how it felt to hear his own words used to manipulate him like that. His eyes closed suddenly in a wince, though he couldn't say if it were from biting his knuckle too hard or tormenting himself for even thinking of asking this. Given the next words out of his mouth, he assumed the former. Idiot. "Hermione. . . are you. . ." He shook his head in anguish, letting his hand free from his teeth to cover his eyes. "Are you thinking about abortion?" he blurted, sounding more like a monotonous stream of useless words than a question.

Without a doubt, the most awkward moment the world had ever seen. The silent air around him had such a disgusting, bitter taste that he wanted to cough more than anything, but he held it; he didn't quite know how long it would last once it started, and it was all they didn't need to have more uneasiness on them.

Ugh, what was taking her so _long_? Simple yes-no question, could be answered without a thought. He was _shaking_ from anxiety, damnit! How could he be so insensitive? What was _wrong_ with him? _Why ask something like that_? She was ready to burst, he could just _feel_ it; any second now, she'd start ranting and raving, high on hormones, mind you, about what a disgusting, despicable, general asinine ass he was in words he couldn't spell for all the bloody treasures in the known world.

She'd be right. He could just feel _that_ tidbit, as well.

"I need time to think about all this." her words came finally, just as emotionless as the question had been.

Ron felt his heart falling to the floor with a sickening splatter, being beaten with a mallet for good measure. "Yeah." he croaked, suddenly not able to take one more whiff of that air. He rose slowly, squeezing her hand before letting it go, leaning in to kiss her forehead before stopping himself. Bad idea. _Really_ bad idea. His lips curled wryly, his face so bare of any emotion; it was all at work inside him, unable to spare any traces of color or feeling for his face.

Hermione was so. . . so shaken, so distraughtly flustered, that she barely noticed the thick thudding of the door as he left. No words. No thoughts. Just. . . things. Things she couldn't name. Wasn't coherent enough to name. Wasn't coherent enough to count the minutes. Maybe hours. Something cold on her hand. So cold it made her cringe.

Draco's hand was steady, pushing the potion just close enough for her fingertips to brush it, attempt to identify it. Calming draught. She pushed it away, shaking her head wordlessly, not even looking up at him. He exhaled slowly, staring at her thoughtfully before retreating to his bedside. He picked his trousers up from the bedpost, extracting a handkerchief that he took his time walking back with. The instant she felt the fabric against her hand, her eyes softened, and she nodded ever so slowly as she clutched it.

He pulled a chair up to her bedside, sitting without one single word or expression as he watched her cry herself to sleep.

* * *

AN: ahh, done:P okay, so I have a bit of a message/celebration for you today, if you could call it that. I realize that it has now been two entire years since I started this fic. I also realize I've only gotten about 10 chapters done in that span of time. Yes, it's pathetic, but I still have school to deal with and other web obligations, so yeah. BUT! I just have to say I'm glad it took me this long, because if it didn't, this entire fic would have been disgustingly cliché. I started this fic when I was about 14; cliché's only expected, ne? But because it took so long, not only has my entire writing style completely changed and improved (you can actually tell who's talking now, ne? Haha, kind of important.), but my plot bending has become a whole lot better too. I've come up with a major, MAJORR plot twist I'm planning that will involve Draco, (and just to mention it now, it'sNOT gonna be something stupid like Hermione falling in love with him or something. . . _Ooooohhhh, _it's gonna be so awesome! -squeals- ) and when I originally started, Draco's only purpose would have been the classroom scene with Trelawney and nothing else. It's just generally a lot better, and as cliché as it does sound, I think it took me this long for a reason so it would turn out to be so much better of a fic. I never would have been able to make this fic work the right way when I started it. I just wouldn't. So, that said, I'm writing SO much faster now, if you hadn't noticed; this has now been the second chapter that I've updated within the same month, and my next goal is to get the next chapter up in two weeks, and so on, because from this point on in the fic, I have everything so completely planned. There will be two OC's coming up very, very soon in this fic, one who I only dreamed up about a week ago that I'm extremely excited to get started on, and the other is one that I've been dying to write about since this fic started. Both are guaranteed to be so much fun to write, I'm excited like you can't imagine. 

When I started this fic, I thought it would be around 15 chapters. Now, more realistically, with all the extra little things I'm adding in and such, it'll be more like 25-30 chapters when it's all finished. I'm still contemplating whether I want an epilouge or leave it at the ending I'm doing.

So, basically, the point of that whole message was, don't worry, because this fic will get finished a whole lot faster now, and you can expect a whole lot more from me from this point on. Thanks so much for all of your reviews guys, you really do make me giddy :P  
Much, MUCH love. . .

hearts!  
– Suki

PS – sidenote; if you are not on the author alert list and you would like an email when this is updated, scroll up and click to my profile/bio and click the link there to subscribe. Thankss!

_formatting updated July 26, 2006_


	12. Side Story Teaser: Endearment

Thanks, Mate

_side story teaser: Endearment_

* * *

"I'm sorry, but the King of Diamonds is _not_ a wildcard!" 

"_Merlin_, Hermione, of course it is!"

"I hate to intervene, however. . ." the King of Diamonds spoke regally from the top of the deck, motioning its hand dramatically.

Hermione abruptly turned the card over, ignoring the yelp of pain the Jack of Spades let out when colliding with the King's scepter. "You stay out of this!"

"Okay, are you gonna complain the entire game? Because it's _really_ getting irritating." Lavender whined sharply, crossing her legs on the bed. She glanced across the room idly, noting the time subconsciously. "It's getting kinda late. . . maybe we should just call it my game and wrap it up."

"No way!" Hermione retorted, taking Lavender's deck from her hands as she shuffled the cards briskly. "We've been playing for 3 ruddy hours; I have to win at least _once_! Besides, you haven't anything better to do."

"Except sleep."

"You can sleep later." she replied with a confident smile, similar to the ones she frequently sported when solving other people's problems with her high level of intellect. Lavender merely sighed, holding out her hand for yet another hand of cards, which Hermione did not hesitate to deal out. "Okay. . ." Hermione pondered, thinking hard as she stared at her own cards. A three was always good to start with, since it left so much room for building upon. . . but if she played that Ace now. . . the levels of humiliation Lavender would fall to were simply endless. Then again, she really did feel that Five of Spades calling to her. . .

"Hermione! Wake up!" Lavender said abruptly, snapping her fingers so suddenly in front of her friend's face that she squeaked as she jumped in her seat.

"Don't _do_ that!" she yelped, blinking a few times before reaching her normal heart rate again.

"Well if you weren't so out of it. . ." her friend countered, waving it away quickly. "Whatever. Let's try this again. Where's that Malfoy kid at an hour like this? I thought he slept here."

Hermione blinked, staring at the clock. Her face slowly sank, her realization bringing on a sigh as she looked at her friend again. "It's okay. He'll be back soon. He's just. . . Yeah, he'll be back soon. So, your turn or mine?"

"He's just what?"

Hermione shrugged. "He, um. . . he's got this little habit of breaking into the liquor cabinet in Snape's office when he's on nightly hall duty three days a week. . . he usually stays to grab what he can."

"You mean he drinks?"

"I guess so."

"A lot?"

"Sometimes."

Lavender blinked.

"It's not what you think; really, it's not." Lavender gave her a hard look. "Okay, he. . . _overindulges_ every now and then. So he likes a little wine with dinner. . . he's a Malfoy, after all. They've probably got fancy French cuisine with a side of caviar and fine Italian wine three times a day where he's from." She snickered. "Purebloods."

"I _don't_ appreciate that, by the way. . ." Lavender replied passively, thinking a moment. "Overindulges, huh? Well. . . as long as it doesn't bother you, I guess. . ."

"Not at all." Hermione replied reassuringly. _Although_, she thought, _It's getting late. . . where is he? _She sighed slightly, motioning for Lavender to make her move. She obliged, fingering her card thoughtfully before placing it down on the pile. She snorted slightly.

Hermione looked up at her. "What?"

"I wonder. . ." she started. "It'd be funny to see what kind of drunk someone like Draco would turn out to be like. Sorts like him usually either go philosophical with all the answers to humanity, giddy, or they go into a laughing fit and collapse on the floor for 12 hours."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Ravenclaw party?"

"Umhm." she chimed, grinning.

Hermione rolled her eyes, laughing slightly as she placed her next card down, barely hearing the card ranting on about what a poor move it was. "Moonstruck." she said finally.

"Hm?"

"He gets moonstruck. Like he's. . . in complete awe of the world. _Dreamy_ is a good word, I suppose."

"Does not, the little prick."

"Oh, but he does. . . You should _see_ those eyes shimmering. That shade of grey he has is such a gorgeous color to have in the first place, but with that glint in his eyes. . . Breathtaking." She smiled distantly, trying to picture it in her head to describe it properly. "He just seems so. . . so pure, innocent. . . calm. . . like a child, almost." She shrugged. "It's endearing." She paused, smirking slightly. "Now, _Ron_, on the other hand. . . _He _would be the type to go into a laughing fit and collapse on the floor for 12 hours."

Lavender snickered. "Aww. . . he's a cute one, though. Not his fault he can't hold his liquor."

"Wouldn't trade him for the world." she agreed fakely, a small, certain degree of wistfulness in her smile.

"Aww, you cutie. . . Still, I'll have to see this Malfoy thing for myself. Him, _endearing_. . . Merlin, that _has_ to be a lie."

Hermione blinked slowly. "He's not a bad person, Lavender. He made a mistake, that's all."

"No, he's a bastard." Lavender retorted confidently. "I'm sure of it. Think about it; he may not have known _why_ it was a bad idea to try and hex you, but either way, he _was_ trying to hex you."

"I'm over it. Believe me, there's plenty more I have to deal with right now." She swallowed. "And. . . he's not a bastard; _really_, he's not. I'd say if he was. He's just. . . he likes staying cut off from people who don't really know him. Once he's comfortable with you, he's really quite easy to talk to. . ." She shrugged shyly. "He's helping me a lot. But yeah, I suppose he _is_ a bit of a brick wall; I _still_ can't figure him out most of the time."

"Then how do you know he's good?"

"Because. He's already proved it to me, I know that." Lavender looked unconvinced. "He's got a heart there somewhere. I know he does. That's all. Now, are you going to put your four down and win me the game and leave me, or are you gonna stick around to beat me again?"

Lavender blinked. "How'd you know my last card was. . .?"

"You showed me your whole deck when you were talking. Multitask-deficient?"

"Shut up." She yawned, throwing the last card down and shoving them all in the box before they started chanting their little song of victory. "And winning one time out of 20 doesn't give you bragging rights, but. . . yeah. Whatever. I'm going to bed. See ya tomorrow." she muttered, shoving the deck in her pocket before getting up, throwing one of the empty boxes of Every-Flavored Beans on the ground.

"No!" Hermione yelped suddenly, grabbing Lavender by the shirt so abruptly that she toppled backwards on top of her. "Don't go, not yet! Stay for just a little while? Please?"

"Hermione. . ." she groaned. "I'm tired."

"Then sleep here! We could have a _sleepover_! Oh, wouldn't that be fun?"

"I have _classes_ in the morning."

"Oh, fine." Hermione pouted, letting her go dejectedly. She paused. "Well, then, could you just stay until Draco gets back? Then you can leave, I promise!"

"He's not coming back for a while, Hermione."

"Yes he is! He'll be back really soon! Snape usually goes back to his office to lock up around 2, and Draco's always back at least 15 minutes earlier, just to be safe. He'll be here, I promise. Just don't go yet."

Lavender sighed, eyeing her friend sympathetically. "Hermione. . . I would, you know I would. . . it's just so _late_, though. . ."

"Do you not see the double row of beds strewn across this whole room?" she replied, wanting to smirk so badly. "Take a nap or something. Here, you can have Draco's bed; the other mattresses are dreadfully hard, he did this softening spell on ours. . . Go ahead, he won't care."

"Fine, fine. . ." Lavender surrendered, plopping down on the bed beside Hermione's. "But I'm _not_ taking his bed. . . that knack for making people want to knock the shite out of him might be contagious."

"_Pretension_, Lavender?" Hermione offered with a sigh.

"And those colors are really ugly." she added as an afterthought, sneering at the rich emerald color with its silver accent. Enough to make any Gryffindor spill his lunch. And with that, she turned on her side to find a comfortable position. Hermione smiled, turning slightly in her own spot as the bed creaked under her friend's moving figure. One time. Two times.

Three.

Four.

"Al_right_!" she burst suddenly, causing Hermione to flinch slightly. "I'll take his freaking bed!" She got up, muttering to herself as she rubbed the small of her back. "Fucking _alabaster_ for a mattress. . ." she cursed, throwing back Draco's covers and snuggling in. She had to admit though; even for an aggravating bastard like him, he had one hell of a thread count.

* * *

"Poke-pooooooooookeeee!" 

Hermione groaned in her sleep, hitting her visitor's hand away.

"Oh, no. . . still sleepys. . ." he confirmed sadly, his whole expression falling. One second. Two seconds. Three seconds. All at once, his face lit up again, and he poked her in the shoulder gaily as if it were a new, and, quite frankly, splendid idea. "Poke-poke, Mione-poke. . ."

She groaned again, hitting him harder this time as she mumbled. "Not _now_, Draco. . ." He giggled softly, almost clapping his hands in delight to find her awake.

"'_Now_, Draco!'" he repeated spiritedly. "Now, now. . ."

Hermione opened her eyes, staring up at him wearily. "Ugh. . . what time is it?"

"'What time is it?'" he asked, almost perfectly matching her tone as his head turned to look at the clock, though he seemed to forget what it was he was supposed to do. He turned back, looking at her strangely for a moment. "Sleepys. . ."

"I'm awake, Draco. . ." she assured him, almost groaning as she turned to stare at the clock, squinting in the darkness. She paused. "Draco, it's almost 4 o'clock. Where were you?"

"Sleepys. . ."

"I'm awake, Draco, I promise." she said patiently, sitting up and holding his face so she was sure he was looking right at her. "Work with me. It's really late. Where did you go?"

"Sleepys." he replied, taking Hermione's hands from either side of his head and clapping them together sloppily.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'm not. . ."

"No, no, sleepys. . ." he interrupted, yawning cutely.

"Oh, you meant you?" Draco sat as if he couldn't even hear what she'd said, blinking at the colors swirling on her spelled blanket. Hermione looked at him, waiting for a response. "Look at me, Draco." she prodded. He groaned, flashing his eyes up at her. "Go get some sleep, okay? Go ahead. . ." she said silently, letting go of his hands as he yawned and stood, stabilizing himself clumsily against her bed.

"Niiight, night. . ." he murmured subconsciously, drifting off to his side of the room. Hermione had barely even settled down into her mound of pillows before a piercing scream echoed from across the room, almost arresting her in shock.

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING, MALFOY?"

"HEY!" he retorted awkwardly, positioned so askew that Hermione could barely tell if he was crouching in fear or he was really just that drunk. . . though he did seem to back up as Lavender rolled out of the opposite side of his bed, standing as far away from him as she could.

Hermione instantly rose to her feet, walking to the other side of the room as her mind tried to decipher who to tend to first. "What happened?" she asked stupidly, unable to come up with a more appropriate line.

"He just lied down right next to me, the little git!" Lavender accused, pointing at Draco like a little child. "Sorcerer's _heels_, Malfoy, what's _wrong - _"

"Lavender, you were in his bed!" Hermione interrupted, keeping an eye on Draco out of the corner of her eye, who, by the look of him, held an expression of both confusion and distress. "And he's not exactly in the right state of mind to realize it either way! Calm yourself!"

"Ugh, I think he touched me!" she yelled, rubbing her arms in an effort to calm herself. Then, as if her statement had only just sunk into her mind, she yelped, ripping off her bathrobe and throwing it to the floor as if it contained Yellow-haired Gluddnut eggs that would hatch and breed in her hair any moment. "That's freaking _disgusting_!"

"Oh, _please_, Lavender, he couldn't have given you anything! He's the most hygienic freak I know, and besides, nothing's _that_ contagious!"

"Oh, I'm sure! He could have all _sorts_ of crap, with all the girls he's fucked. . ."

"_Lavender!" _Hermione gasped, astonished.

"Lynda silly. . ." Draco said airily, attempting a laugh that translated to a hiccup. Hermione turned her head, confused, searching for the source of the sound, when she found him bending over to pick up Lavender's abandoned bathrobe. "Silly Lynda, you droppeded. . ." he explained, outstretching the robe towards its owner upon standing.

Lavender shrieked in surprise, nearly backed up against the wall. "Don't you _dare_ come any closer, Malfoy, or I swear I'll. . ." But her sentence was never finished; it was interrupted by the most awkward sound she'd ever experienced.

And there he was, Draco Malfoy, the most pureblooded ass of them all, down there on his knees. . . crying.

Hermione and Lavender shot each other strange glances, almost as if to confirm what, in fact, he was doing. The whole scene just seemed so grossly odd that they were completely unaware of how to act. As if it wasn't bad enough with him just sitting there weeping, he howled suddenly, and the look on their faces indicated that it was hard to decide whether to laugh or console him. Hermione jerked her head, as if prompting Lavender to do the former, who gave her a look that had _Excusez moi? _written all over it.

Hermione sighed heavily, bending down as low as she could to both look him in the eye and prevent herself from permanently locking in that position. ". . . um, Draco. . ." she started. He showed no sign of reaction. "Draco? Are you alright?" Still nothing. She sighed, plopping down on the floor beside him, trying to pry his hand away from his face as gently as possible. "Draco, look at me. . ."

"Draco makes Lynda scream. . ." he interrupted. "Draco didn't mean to, he's sorry; _sorry_, sorry sorry. . ." he sobbed, trying to free his hand from Hermione's grasp as frantically as his words flew from his mouth.

"Who's Lynda?" she asked patiently. No response. Yet it seemed different this time, for some reason. She paused. "_Draco_," she clarified. "who's Lynda?"

"Lynda mad. . . Lynda _very_ mad. . . Draco's sorry, I promisesed. . ."

"Draco. . . Calm down. . ." she pleaded hopelessly. "It's okay, just calm down. . ." She hesitated a moment, hovering her hand over his back, unsure of how comfortable either of them would be if she chose to comfort him that way. _He's really upset though, and it might work. . . _she thought. _And really, he's so drunk, he won't even notice, much less care. . . as long as he doesn't remember. . . I guess it's alright. . ._ With that, she lowered her hand and gently began to rub his back, holding his hand away from his face. He seemed startled for just a second, choking back on his tears, and began to slowly relax to her soft cooing. "It's okay now, Draco. . . Shhh. . . There, that's it; just calm down. . ." His shoulders heaved as the last of his tears came, replacing them with only whimpering breath that became more and more stable as time went on.

Almost seemingly mesmerized, Lavender took one cautious step forward, and his eyes instantly sprang up to hers, bearing into them so deeply that she felt chills. Such beauty, such magic, such sadness those stunning, paled eyes held. . . she was just compelled to stand there as his eyes seemed to explore her soul through her own eyes; that gaze was just so entrancing that her body, her mind, they stopped all functions, operating on but a single word; _endearment._

"Lynda is. . . mad?" he asked silently, his face so lovelorn and crestfallen. . . and so unbearably sad. Lavender was so captivated that she barely found the proper strength to point to herself, leaving the embrace of Draco's gaze regrettably to meet Hermione's. Her friend gave her a look that plainly displayed that her best option was playing along.

Lavender's eyes wandered back to his, feeling that same mystical, enchanting flow rush over her. What _was_ this? How could one single stare render her so speechless? ". . .No." she whispered finally. "No; no, I'm not. . ." His eyes seemed to shimmer in response, and a gleeful smile slowly overtook his expression as he laughed carelessly. She could just feel her lips curling as the overwhelming urge to giggle consumed her.

"Ugh, Lavender, help me up?"

Lavender jumped at the sound of Hermione's voice, looking at her only to realize for the first time that she was sitting on the ground. She gasped, rushing to her friend's side to help her stand gently. "Hermione, what are you _doing_ down there? How did you expect to get up?"

"Well I wasn't really thinking about that at that particular moment. . ." she grunted. "Here, help me get Draco to his bed; I don't think he knows what end is up. . ."

"Forget Draco, let's get you back in bed first . . . you shouldn't be up in the first place."

"Why, because I'm _with child_ and I'm _delicate property_ now?" Hermione snorted. "Please. I don't even _look_ pregnant; the only reason Pomfrey keeps me in bed down here is from exhaustion. Just help me with Draco."

"Mione sleepys!" Draco urged, apparently more cognizant than they had anticipated. He stood up in a fashion that was anything but graceful, but suitable, nonetheless. "Come, Mione, sleepys. . ." he prodded, following her to her bed and waiting for her to settle in before patting her head gaily. "Night, night." he chimed, turning around at her similar acknowledgment and staring through the darkness for a moment.

"Right here, Dr – um, Malfoy. . ." Lavender directed, letting him follow the sound of her voice to his own bed. She ruffled the blanket momentarily, making it seem a little more made than it was. "Sorry for taking your bed. . . I um. . . yeah, sorry." She turned, just to find him standing directly beside her, stepping back from the initial shock. "Oh, sorry." she said shyly as her cheeks pinked slightly, seemingly unaware of what to do with herself. Those eyes. . . there they were again. . . she could just feel her complexion growing darker and darker until she felt his fingertips brush her hair from her forehead with such care and softness, completely stunning her.

"Lynda looks pretty tonight, Lynda." he said cutely. He was just so out of it that she didn't quite know if she should take it seriously or not, but it made her blush even more regardless. He blinked, smiling at her as he patted her on top of the head, just as he'd done for Hermione. "Night, night night. . ."

"Good night. . ." she managed quietly, stepping away from him. She commanded herself to move towards the door, but her body delayed just as long as it could, watching him get into bed and get himself comfortable, almost humming from his chipper mood.

With that, she shook her head, almost running towards the door erratically. So maybe a Malfoy could be endearing after all.

* * *

AN: okay guys, so that was just a little teaser for things to come. The next chapter will be HUGE. It's actually my project in writing camp currently. (yes, I go to writing camp :P dork) So that said, it will be perfect. There will be 6 MONGO things that happen in the next chapter, and, regrettably, . . . wait, I just realized I can't say what I was about to say. Damnit. :P but yeah, that's happening too. So there will be not 6, but 7 major things to happen in the next chapter. And it will be mongo long, so get ready. And since its my writing camp project, you only have to wait for 2 weeks! YAY! It's getting me in the writing buzz, I love it. Well, please review! Much love till next time! -- Suki 

_formatting updated July 26, 2006_


	13. Chapter 13: partial

_Thanks, Mate_

_(Part of) Chapter 13_

* * *

"Oh, George, one more thing; make sure you pack that parcel on the kitchen table for Hermione." 

"I packed hours ago, Mum."

"Do it again. Oh, and Fred, those crumb cakes, keep them just for Ron; make sure Ginny doesn't get her hands in them. And I'm serious; they're just for Ron."

"Alright, Mum." Fred started, gritting his teeth as he grabbed his mother by the shoulders, looking into her eyes as he spoke slowly and clearly. "I'm gonna ask you one last time. Are you sure you don't want to come with us?"

Molly merely waved her hand as if the idea were preposterous, shaking her son off of her. "No, no, dear; I wouldn't want to - . . ."

"Look at me, Mum." he interrupted, grabbing hold of her. She paused, her eyes settling seriously. "No, look me in the eyes." he insisted, and waited for his mother to do so before sighing, continuing softly. "Seriously. Are you sure?"

Pause.

"I'm sure." she whispered.

The fireplace illuminated blazenly, sparks of various tints and hues scattering into cinders as their esteemed guest entered their home. "Ah. A good morning to all." he chimed upon eyeing the three of them.

"Morning, Professor." the twins echoed in monotonous reaction, continuing on with their ongoing tasks.

"I hope I haven't come too late; I'm afraid I may have overslept just a bit."

"No, no, Albus. . ." Molly ventured, using the excuse to free herself from her son. "Ah, you've come with perfect time, look at that. . ." she remarked cheerfully, noting the clock ticking past _time for visitors_ as she scurried into the kitchen. "Have a seat, Albus; I'll get up some tea straight away. . ."

"Mum," Fred called, thrown a little off course by the sudden visitor. "I really think I need - . . ."

"Do you prefer sugar or Griland Goss with your tea? Never mind; I'll bring the - "

"No need, Molly." Dumbledore interrupted passively, cleaning the remaining evidence of the floo from his spectacles. "I'm quite content at the moment, but - "

"Nonsense!" she argued, returning with a tray of tea and cookies, her face as bright and lively as ever. "I'll not have you leaving my house without proper entertaining; I'm sure you've a moment to spare for just a spot."

"Ah, your mother and her fine hosting skills. . ." he acknowledged, taking one of the nearest seats to the presented tray. "I suppose just a spot, then?" He chuckled slightly, extending a wink in the twins' direction before helping himself to a buttered crumpet.

"Come dears, join us; don't be rude."

"I'm not hungry." Fred announced brusquely, his expression hard as he focused on anything but his mother's face.

"Fred. . ." George warned.

"I'm _not hungry_." he growled under his breath, his eyes so finely displaying what, in fact, he might do to his twin if he so chose to keep the matter open for discussion.

Molly's face fell slightly, catching the corner of her son's eye.

"Yeah, sure, Mum." George agreed, sighing as he took the seat beside his mother. She stared at him, extending a fake smile towards him as he returned the glance awkwardly. ". . .I guess I should eat something. . ." he tried nervously.

"Oh, yes, dear; that would be smart of you." She nodded fervently, as if it really were such a splendid idea of his creation.

He swallowed slightly, taking a small plate and watching very carefully what he chose to take. No, not those cookies; those were store-bought. Okay, so those little cakes with the ginger frosting. . . Merlin, did they look _fabulous_. . . but no, wait; she hadn't made that either. Erm. . . The tarts with the red dots. . . yeah, Mum made those for Christmas last year; he'd inadvertently sent the whole first batch of them flying through the fireplace with a bum heating spell. They were safe to take. Okay, good. One down. Deep breaths; it'll all be over soon. What's next? Hmm. . . Should he spring for the tea? Ugh, _licorice_. Of course; she knew Dumbledore was coming, now, didn't she? Licorice tea was only expected. But _ugh_, so putrid. . . he couldn't _possibly _be expected to drink that. _Ginger cake – so good. . ._ NO, no ginger cake! Focus!

"Have a cup, my boy." Dumbledore suggested suddenly, causing George to almost drop the whole plate from jumping so high in his seat.

"Oh, a cup!" he reacted, letting out an anxiously spirited laugh. "What an idea! I would have _never _thought of that! I suppose that's why you're the professor – always thinking on your toes. Excellent job, must say - . . ."

"Now, now; I'm not as deep as all that, I daresay."

"Ah, so _modest_!" George defended, waving his hand in the air rabidly as he spoke. "Honestly, Professor, you've got a keen eye for detail, there; but I suppose you would by now, yeah? Fred and I've never let ourselves get caught by obvious fingerprints, no, Sir; takes a true maniacal genius for that sort of detective skill, if I may. The most critical of oberservations are those not worth first observing, I always sa - "

"Will you just take the fucking tea?" Fred burst, his eyes ablaze with his angry irritation.

"Frederick!" Molly countered, her body nearly arresting in shock. She swallowed hard, her mouth gaping open for any words to come. "You. . . You apologize to Professor Dumbledore at _once_!"

Fred scoffed.

"Fred, can I talk to you for a moment?" George said tersely, more of a blatant demand than request.

"No, George; no, you can't." he replied smugly.

"_Now_, Fred." His twin insisted, springing to his feet with ugly malice in his face. Fred made no movement of compliance. George positioned himself eye to eye with his brother in response, staring him down with little effect. "Now." he growled.

"Piss off." Came the response, laced with the very same intensity, and before the reaction was even registered, George grabbed him by the arm so abruptly that he nearly felt whiplashed as he was manhandled down the hall, thrashing against his brother wildly. "I swear to God, George, if you don't fucking - "

George made a sharp interruption, throwing him into their bedroom and slamming the door shut. "What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you _serious_? What exactly are you thinking, Fred, because I'm not seeing it!"

"I swear, George, I can't take another fucking second of that woman."

"_That woman _is your mother, you ass!"

"That woman standing in our living room right now is _not_ our mother. _Our mother_ died off two months ago, right along with any chance any of us had at being happy ever again."

"Oh, _please._ Don't give me that bullshit."

"It's not bullshit. You know, she expects us to be _so sorry _for her, George. And what're you doing? _Encouraging her_. What the hell was that out there, mate? 'Herm, I guess I should eat something. What do you think, Ma? Well, I'm not all that hungry after eating about every home-cooked meal you've ever attempted in the span of one hour last night, with profuse worship and all, but I guess you haven't had enough, so let's see what else I can swallow whole.' You're pathetic, you know that?"

"Yeah, well what about you, then? 'Are you _sure _you don't want to come with us, Mummy? Really sure? We can't last a _day _without you, we'd shrivel and die! Oh, say you'll come!'"

"_I wanted her to see Ron, you asshole!" _he screamed, his face burning with his intensity.

"I know that! You really think I'm that daft?"

"You're acting it!"

"Oh, dear Myrddin. All I'm saying is that there's nothing wrong with a little indulgence at this point, Fred; she's already lost one son, and now she's loosing another. How's that supposed to make her feel if even _we_ find some way to prove how inadequate a mother she is and just fly off to London like _he_ did?"

"Don't you bring Percy up now, you git. He's got nothing to do with this."

"Oh, yeah? You think so? Just because he's dead to the rest of us doesn't mean she's still not devastated over him. Percy was only the beginning; Bill's hardly ever home anymore, Charlie's in fucking _Romania_, for Merlin's sake, and Dad's become a complete workaholic ever since he found out about Ron, who's about to be sent off to Azkaban for one stupid, _stupid_ mistake. And _Ginny _- Ginny's bound to get herself killed just for being attached to the name _Harry Potter_, of all the bloody wizards to choose from."

"Get to the _point, _George! The fricken point!"

"The fricken point, _Fred_, is that this family's accumulated a shiteload of baggage, and considering how alone the situation's leaving her, she's feeling it heavier than any of us! You think all that crap hasn't built up on her? You think she feels like she's done a _good job _with us? Is that what you really think?" He paused. Fred's expression stayed entirely still. "Like it or not, Fred, she _does_ care about this family, so excuse me for thinking the woman's entitled to a little sympathy."

"She doesn't care." Fred countered quietly. "Not about us." George rolled his eyes, only fueling Fred's volume and temperament. "She just _refused_ to come with us, mate. Outright refused. Let's face it, George; she's given up on us. She just couldn't handle it anymore. And she's not afraid to let us know straight up that she no longer has anything to do with us; she just proved that to me. She won't come see her son, she won't come see Hermione, no one. There is not _one person_ who could be so deftly in jeopardy right now that could move her to leave this house."

"Fred, look - "

"Ron is going to die, George." Fred uttered quietly, freezing George in his place. "It's that simple. And all any of us can do is hold his blooming hand until the dementors come for him. We promised we'd try; that's all we could've offered him, and he grabbed at it like a pureblood at Gringott's. She couldn't bring herself to do even _that_. And now she wants our damn pity because she's gone though _so much _as our mother and she's worked _so hard_ to make us good people and it's all blown up in her face. I don't feel sorry for her, George. Not one fucking bit."

Silence choked them as they stared at each other harder than ever before. They just stood there blankly, all the joy of life sucked from them forever. They didn't deserve it any longer. They'd finally failed.

Fred hung his head and held his fingers to the corners of his eyes, blinking away what little moisture had left with his hope. He sniffed just to hear the sound of it, and made no move to speak to his brother. They didn't deserve each other, either. Not now.

George swallowed, and Fred caught the sound of it from his position, listening for anything more. ". . .I'm sorry you feel that way." Fred grit his teeth at that, sniffing his disgust in the phrase. Knowing exactly that, George sighed. "She shouldn't have to watch her son die."

"_Come on_. She will _not_ see Ron die – it's not like he's freaking _diseased_ or anything."

"It sure doesn't change much, though, does it?"

"She should have the sense not to blame Ron for the entire family. She _knows _it's not him, yet –"

"No, it's not Ron. It's you."

Fred stopped short, staring at his brother incomprehensibly.

". . .or _will_ be." George continued listlessly. "Our family. . . is on its final legs. We're finally falling apart. Completely and utterly apart." He swallowed, staring into Fred's eyes with mixed anxiety and anger and desperation all at once. "And if you are ultimately responsible for pushing everyone off the edge, I _will_ kill you."

Fred took a second to process, his lips curling into a sickening sort of grin, emerging from his new level of insanity. "Oh, it won't be me. You can at least count on that."

George made no answer.

"Come on. Ron's waiting."

The door closed behind them finally, the room still echoing with the memory of their trust in humanity.

* * *

"Come on, come on. . ." Ron muttered impatiently, tapping his quill against the roll of his test paper. "'The role of Bernando Frivalia in the 1032 Concealment Reformation Council at the headquarters of the Italian _Ministero di Magia_ can be best described as. . ." Blank. Completely blank. Dear God, where did these bloody teachers come off, giving a fill-in-the-blank essay question like that? _50 inches_ of it, no less? He growled lowly, his eyes darting up and scanning the room secretively, watching as they all scurried their quills across the page, so full of information that they almost seemed _excited_ to be writing. If Hannah Abbott's smile grew any larger, he really did feel as if he would need to resist the urge to smack her.

. . . Er, that was an expression. Common expression. One of those thingys said but never meant, that are really kinda vulgar when looked at word-for-word; yeah, one of those. . .

_Oh, stop sweating, you git._ he ordered himself. _We're past that, remember?_ He sighed at his own retort, shifting in his seat and staring up at the ceiling in silent torment. How in the hell would he pull this one off? He didn't _study_; with all the crap going on? Who did they think they were kidding? He never even so much as touched a book back when he was still a happy little virgin, why start now? And he could have _sworn _the name Bernidardino or Berturd or Bevelaqua or whatever the hell his name was had never so much as graced his ears even once. . . _His_ name? He, right? Or was it. . .

_Ka-CHOO._

Crash.

"Mister Weasley!" The teacher barked from the front of the room, causing Ron to grunt louder than first intended. "Are you alright?"

"Oh, sure, Professor. . ." he chimed fakely, seating his chair upright. "Just concentrating real hard. . . Was a very _loud_ sneeze, it was. . ." he commented, turning on his heel to find who had been sitting at the location his ears were pointing him to. . .

"Oh, sorry, mate." Harry said awkwardly. "Didn't realize."

Ron paused, staring at Harry for one long, slow moment. For some weird, inexplicable reason, he just couldn't look away from him. He almost couldn't stand the sight of him, yet he couldn't get himself to stop. There was just something about the boy's face, some twisted, ill presence in his features that set his nerves on end. It wasn't so much of an image as a feeling that they provided him; a hollow, empty sort of feeling, almost apathetic with vibrant sensation, if such a feeling could ever exist. . . was it defensive? Some reflexive form of self-protection, perhaps? No, not that; more like. . . neglect. Like some varied form of isolation and ill regret and. . .

Like Harry had finally let him down.

"Why, Mr. Weasley. . ." the professor drawled suddenly. "A face I doubted I'd ever see again."

"Aye, miss; but aren't you floating on clouds now that it's happened?"

Ron blinked. What? He was pretty sure he was the only Weasley, looking around, and yet. . . he could swear that was someone else who just answered. Who in bloody hell. . .

"Ron!" George hissed, waving his hand before his brother's eyes.

Ron jumped back, his chair clattering to the ground for the second time that period. Yet he barely bothered to even reach for it; George was much more an interesting topic. ". . . George! You. . ." he stopped, staring in disbelief. "You're here?"

"Aww, come on, now; don't act surprised. Professor," George called to the front. "May I take him?"

"If it will stop this constant interrupting during my testing period," she growled.

George chuckled. "Sorry, there. Come on, get your stuff. . ." he hissed, patting Ron away proddingly. His eyes turned. "Ah, Harry!" he chimed, catching his eye.

Harry smiled weakly. "George. . . hey there, mate. . ."

"How're you coming along, then? I hear Ginny's got – "

"Mister Weasley!" the professor roared.

"Oh." he whispered, hiding himself under his arms with a wink. "Sorry."

She merely 'humphed', turning her attention back to the papers in front of her.

"Okay." Ron said. "I'm done. . . let's just go."

"Aww, but I was just catching up with Harry, here. . ."

"Let's _go_." Ron finalized, giving Harry the oddest look as he left the room.

* * *

an: Oh WOWWWW it's been a while! My computer's been blocked from for MONTHS, and I only just discovered I can get back in about a week ago, and immediately started writing again… Jesus, how I missed it. This is just a short blurb in celebration of my resurrection, and I'll edit later to include everything this chapter is supposed to include. Thanks for your reviews/patience guys, I missed you! 33 Suki 


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